


Bloodlines

by distantstarlight



Series: 221 B Barker Street [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accelerated Growth, Alpha Greg, Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Family, Animalistic, Attempted Murder, BAMF John, BAMF Sherlock, Battle, Bonding, Challenges, Character Death, Childbirth, Espionage, F/F, F/M, Family, Feral Behavior, Gay Sex, Genetically Engineered Beings, Human Trafficking, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Jealousy, Johnlock - Freeform, Kidnapping, M/M, Mad Science, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Sexual Submission, Oaths & Vows, Omega Mycroft, Omega Sherlock, Other, Pandemics, Pheromones, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Pregnancy, Rivalry, Royalty, Safe Sane and Consensual, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Fights, Werewolf John, Werewolf Lestrade, Werewolf Mycroft, Werewolf Sherlock, Werewolves, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 93,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a threat to the peace and new found harmony of Baker Street. How will the wolves of London deal with their new world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Endings and Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This story continues the 221B Barker Street series but now is when the serious plotty twists and turns begin to emerge. I hope you have a tight grip on reality because I'm about to do some serious damage to it.
> 
> I have some pretty far fetched goals concerning this fic thanks to a small prompt I received. In truth my crazed brain probably didn't need to be poked again but it happened and it can't unhappen. I don't really mind, in fact I welcome it. Throw your suggestions my way. Let's do this thing!

John was immediately on the defensive. His eyes ran over the street, looking for anything out of place, anything suspicious. He tested the air carefully but there were no other wolves evident. John took Sherlock's hand firmly and ushered him into their flat, closing the doors firmly and locking up everything tight. Sherlock complained that he wanted to look at the evidence but John's eyes snapped at him and Sherlock fell quiet while John pulled out his phone.

A frantic text to Greg and Mycroft had them arriving at 221B in short order. Greg and John walked the length of the street to take in the stranger's scent. They made Sherlock and Mycroft stay in the doorway of 221, both men complaining loudly that it was unfair and that they needed to see and smell as well. Their alphas ignored the request, their animal side was not allowing them to expose or endanger their omegas any more than they had to. There was possible danger around and the alphas both instinctively protected their mates. John and Greg smelled carefully every step of their search. 

The stranger was definitely male. There was a lupine layer to his scent that set him apart from the other scents on the street from passing neighbors or visitors. The wolf part smelled familiar to all of them though all four men agreed they'd never encountered the person before. Still it was another werewolf when they had never thought to meet any. The twang of pheromones was still strong in the air. It made Greg and John hostile. Neither Sherlock nor Mycroft were affected though. Sherlock mused that it was because of the bond. They weren't interested in any alpha apart from their own. After he pointed that out he and Mycroft resumed their complaints about being made to stay put. The alphas gave in.

Each pair of men went in different directions but found no further information of any use. A car had stopped at the corner, probably waiting for the lights to change. The person had gotten out at the corner, walked down the street, marked the door then climbed back into the vehicle which by then was parked close to the front door of 221 Baker street. After that there was nothing. “Why the fuck would he piss on your steps?” grouched Greg. The liquid had dried but the stench lingered.

“A challenge? A message? A flag? Until we meet this wolf we have no real way of knowing.” Sherlock was curious and uneasy. The marking on their step screamed alpha and a randy one at that. Whoever this wolf was, Sherlock was clearly the item of interest at this address. John moved closer and Sherlock relaxed as he took in the distinctive smell of his mate. John's scent was subtle but reassuring. Sherlock could pick John out of a crowd of a million by his clean, uncomplicated and honest smell. Mycroft got his people to check the CCTV footage for the street but all they could see was a large hooded man pacing down the sidewalk, pausing, then climbing into a dark minivan. “Mycroft's people will track them down soon enough.”

The next morning Mycroft's people had. There was a block of destitute buildings that had recently been cleared of all junkies and homeless people who had taken over the place. Wary of leaving their scent too openly Mycroft used intermediaries to scout the area. The lower entrances had been bolted shut but they soon found a side door that had been cut open and re-attached with new hinges. Someone was using the building. There was a group inside but how many was difficult to tell. They didn't seem to be doing anything so after a lot of discussion the wolves decided to leave their uninvited guests alone. Nothing negative had happened. The building they had taken over was slated for replacement by a new more modern building and had stood empty for a long time. No one came in or out. They were putting no one out with their presence.

John had made the decision. “We'll figure out how to meet them after the reception. Then we'll have all the time in the world to deal with an unknown pack.” Mycroft's field team kept their eye on the location. Eventually they learned that there were six people in the building. A large pack. It was intriguing and worrying at the same time. Mycroft installed several CCTV cameras in the area discretely and they left the pack untouched.

The next week went by in a frenzy of activity. Mycroft and Sherlock spent most of their time going over their research while John and Greg took care of everything else. Everyone spent most of their time at Mycroft's house because it was incredibly secure as well as comfortable. The stranger came by Baker Street twice more, still unseen but arrogantly leaving his mark behind on the steps. Mrs Hudson was very put out and declaimed loudly against people who walked their pets up and down their street. John and Sherlock reassured her, Mycroft hired a professional cleaning company to come by and the whole face of 221 Baker Street was washed down. Their landlady was very pleased.

The night of the reception was filled with quickly tipsy people who were far too willing to exchange stories about the men they were toasting. The Yarders met with a bunch of John's old army buddies and soon were in danger of having to arrest themselves for disorderly behavior in public. Mycroft's guests were all elegant, put together and sly. All the planning in the world hadn't kept the party from degenerating into near chaos. Anthea's people swirled around the crowd to keep an eye out security wise but apart from that there was no attempt at moderating the levity experienced everywhere.

It was a big huge party filled with the most dangerous, shifty, trick-some and disturbing people in London. Their hosts knew this for a fact because most of the guests specialized one way or another in various facets of human depravity. The police, politicians, soldiers and all the rest, all of them made their living because the the shadow of darkness that humanity wore on its collective soul. That made the party extra fun. Gallows humor was everywhere. Gag door-prizes like plush toy STDs and other diseases were handed out as well as customized Get Out Of Jail free cards and everyone laughed.

Sherlock and Mycroft both were a little taken aback at the idea of actually having fun at a party. Somehow they'd imagined an elegant affair filled with expensive wines and polite conversation. Greg pointed out that both men had plenty of opportunities to add their opinion to the planning of the event and chose not to. If Greg and John's idea of a party was different than theirs then the Holmes brothers could plan the next party on their own.

Though it was early there were already dancers on the floor. John had opted for a VJ in the end and so at the far end of the banquet hall a very earnest young man in trendy clothes had a series of both hand-made and commercial music videos projected against a blank wall. The music blasted out of a series of carefully placed speakers that delineated the dance area. Pairs and even groups of people bobbed around happily, chatting and dancing at the same time.

A microphone was passed around from one person to the next. They were given an egg timer and when it ran out they had to pass everything over to someone else. Mycroft was horrified but Greg laughed and laughed. Extremely short speeches were made by those who would normally linger over their chance to say something but many laughs were shared. The newlyweds were toasted time and again as Mycroft ensured that the liquor ran freely. John and Sherlock strolled around dressed in matching coal gray suits, the couple asked again and again to retell stories of past cases. Sherlock was showered with compliments as the night went by and John congratulated on their union. Both men were very pleased and glowed with happiness.

All had gone smoothly. John and Greg were both satisfied that their plans had gone well. Mycroft had relaxed a lot and had enjoyed the entire evening. Sherlock barely stopped preening all night. He flashed his wedding ring around as much as he could, sauntering through the crowds with John on his arm. Greg was wheeled around in an artfully done up wheelchair, his face carefully made up to make him appear still ill but staunchly dealing with it. Mycroft pushed him around dotingly, several of his business acquaintances stepping forward to give him their personal farewells and best wishes for Greg's recovery. All of them made their wishes in voices that said they knew Greg wasn't going to make it. Mycroft responded with appropriately false cheeriness and everyone left the pair with a lump in their throat at Mycroft's braveness and devotion.

The dancing was fun. By the time the members of the Yard had drunk enough to work up the courage to ask Mycroft's associates to dance everyone was pretty far gone. No one seemed to mind. Even John and Sherlock spent several dances on the floor together. Sherlock was possessive and territorial with John, not allowing a single person the honor of dancing with his husband, not even Mrs Hudson who just tittered when he snapped out a no. The dance area got bigger and bigger until only the outer rings of the hall had chairs available for people to sit and rest their feet for a minute.

With all the drinking came of course all the needing of the bathrooms. Tonight Sherlock's bladder was apparently of the smallest size available so trip after trip to the lavatory was made by the loving duo. John patiently waited out in the hallway or by the drinks table until Sherlock returned. Near the end of the night, tired and sweaty Sherlock asked to go again. With a tolerant laugh John led Sherlock back the the far end of the banquet hall and waited by the tables.

Only a couple of minutes went by before John felt Sherlock's jolt of surprise. In his head John heard Sherlock's voice cry out, “I'm being taken John! Someone has hooded me and others have my arms and legs. I'm being carried away.”

“Sherlock. I'm getting the other two. Try to figure out where they're taking you. We're on our way.” Resisting the impulse to race futilely after his husband John growled deep in his chest. In the crowds Mycroft and Greg perked up. Looking around they spotted John and the second they saw his face they began making their way through the crowd. Out loud John growled, “Someone just kidnapped Sherlock from the bathrooms.”

Mycroft didn't pause. He took out his phone and began tapping furiously. “We've got them. Just leaving the parking lot. We'll have someone follow the vehicle.” John was enraged and for a minute all he saw was red. Someone had taken the man he loved right out from under his nose. John wanted to kill someone. Darting down the long hallway to the less than pristine public bathroom John caught a whiff of a now familiar scent. “Wolves” he snarled. Mycroft and Greg sniffed carefully and nodded once they'd got the scent. Another growl from their alpha echoed through the room and then all three men were leaving their party to seek Sherlock.

Mycroft's surveillance team followed the kidnapper's vehicle back to the abandoned building. Clearly they had no idea they'd already been spotted. John made them stop at Baker Street. He ran inside and came back out a few minutes later with a briefcase. The driver resumed their journey as John opened the case to reveal a set of strange looking weapons. “Sherlock made these our first year. It was just theoretical. The testing was not fun, let me tell you! Don't accidentally shoot yourself!” The drive seemed interminable even though they weren't more than twenty minutes behind their assailants. John and Sherlock kept up a steady commentary, their communication with each other the only thing keeping them both sane. Several times John felt Sherlock's anger and eventually Sherlock's shame and John nearly lost it. Breathing carefully he calmed himself down. They had arrived.

John stalked through the building, easily following the scent of the wolf who had marked their building. The doctor's anger was carefully tamped down. There was no room for rage right now. Too much was at stake and it was time to be a soldier. The first phase of the full moon was nearly upon them and he had to find Sherlock soon, before he went into heat. Swinging his head back and forth he scented the air carefully before choosing a new corner. Behind him Greg and Mycroft kept pace. Finally they arrived at a plain door. The scent trail they had followed was heaviest here. Sniffing again John nodded to Greg who stepped forward, expertly picking the lock with near total silence.

Greg stepped back and all three men drew out their weapons. John put his hands on the doorknob and pushed. The sight that greeted him was worse than a punch straight to the gut. Sherlock! His beautiful omega was restrained in a complex harness attached to a steel framed bed. A new bottle of lube stood on a crate near the bed, proof of the strange alpha's intentions if the harness wasn't enough of a clue. John nearly howled. Sherlock was naked except for the harness straps that kept his all his limbs restrained as well as his neck and had him suspended face down over the bed nearly on his hands and knees, his body spread open and vulnerable. His head was hanging down and he hadn't said anything but John could feel Sherlock's mind and knew his lover had hidden away inside his mind palace to wait for his alpha.

All six people were inside the large room. Three were young women, three were men. All of them wore clothes that were torn and bloody, evidence of a vicious struggle. Sherlock had not gone easily. In the center of the group a tall savage looking man dominated the room. He was broad, dark and thickly bearded. His hair was wild and grew in waves down to his ears, the rich brown of it matching his eyes. His upper body was naked, his shirt in his hand. He had been stripping himself while the others watched. He didn't really look at John but he did stare in shock at Greg and Mycroft.

John on the other hand could not take his eyes off the stranger. He felt a deep desire inside him, a need to tear this man to shreds, to kill him if possible. He was an intruder. An enemy. A rival. A threat. The other wolves in the room did not concern John. All of them were substantially weaker than him. He could sense it. John's experience with wolves was limited only to Mother and his own pack. Compared to the individuals in front of him John's pack was powerful. Mycroft was the lowest ranking wolf in their pack as second omega but even he would be able to easily dominate these wolves. John felt a thread of pride join the fury he was feeling. This stranger had no idea John had a pack of his own nor did he expect them to be a strong as they naturally were. The odds were even if it came to a fight.

Instinctively John growled menacingly, the ferocious vibrations demanded instant capitulation. One of the men and two of the women dropped to their knees at the sound. John sniffed again. The women were pregnant, afraid, but determined. The men were beta wolves, not alphas and they were terrified. They clearly wanted to protect the women. The men showed fear but not of John! They were frightened of their own alpha. All of them were timid and cringed back as John's eyes swept over them.

The notable exception was the huge alpha. He growled back, his voice deep and resonating but John shrugged off the attempt to dominate him easily. Mycroft and Greg didn't even flinch. The stranger did not like that and for the second time he looked surprised. His lips curled back into a sneer, revealing sharp smooth teeth.

“Little man. You cannot win here little man. I'm going to fuck your bitch and bind him. After tonight he will be mine. Eventually he will be filled with my little pups and not yours. I'll take that other bitch at your back too. The old one is of no use to me.” The voice was harsh and raspy. His words was nearly perfectly executed but there were small accents hidden here and there that told John that he wasn't from England or anywhere as modern as that. The stranger grinned toothily, mocking John, “That's right little wolf. I'm old. The older the better, did you know that little man? Wolf blood gets stronger as the years pass. My line goes back a long, long time. This sweet little bitch has the strongest young blood I've ever smelled. He will breed for years to come and make me so many little babies.”

John's voice was a guttural snarl, “You can't have him. He's mine. He won't let you breed him.” Sherlock could will it not to happen. It wouldn't stop his body from being violated though if John failed to get him. The harness he was in would restrain him easily even after he shifted into his wolf form. The bands that held him were set to tighten automatically. If John lost Sherlock would spend three days being repeatedly raped by the mad dog in front of them. John forced himself to remain calm, to focus on his foe.

“Oh he's not ready for breeding yet. Couple of years more I'd say. Still. Best to train them while they're young. Break them of the bad habits, you know. Like talking. I've tried cutting out their tongues but the fucking things keep growing back. This one hardly shuts up. Maybe I'll just start doing it just to keep him quiet. I keep my knives very sharp or I can always bite it out.” The man continued to strip off his clothes calmly. John took another step inside the door allowing Greg and Mycroft to fan out behind him. They pointed their weapons at the other wolves. The alpha laughed disdainfully.

He pointed at the weapons and waggled his hand a bit, “Minor inconvenience. Shoot all of them if you want, just try not to shoot the babies okay? Or is that what you plan to do yes? Shoot the babies?” The man was monstrous, using his own unborn children to protect himself. The stranger eyed the guns again and laughed contemptuously, “Your modern drugs do not work on lycans. What can you do with simple darts? Nothing, that's what.”

John said nothing. He didn't need to. He knew what kind of man this was, insane or no. All John had to do was provide attention and this man would explain everything. The stranger was a bully, a braggart, a thug. As a rival John expected to hear about the strangers conquests and exploits. This wolf could hardly contain himself. John just had to make a space to fill with conversation. He wasn't disappointed. The stranger began to brag about himself, seeking to create fear in John by detailing his conquests. John felt Sherlock's amusement as John listened carefully to what the stranger found impressive about himself.

“You like my pack? Pretty girls yes? Mothers to my pups. The boys are also pretty and warm in bed, they look after my girls for me. It's good, no?” John was sickened. The way the stranger's pack cut their eyes fearfully to their leader said so much about his cruelty and greed. The strange alpha stood up tall, growling softly as he tried to find a weak spot in John's demeanor. John was suddenly struck at how incredibly clumsy this werewolf was. Accustomed to dealing with people like the Holmes brothers, Moriarty or even Irene Alder John was a little disappointed in his first encounter with a wolf opponent.

Was it possible to get away with being a werewolf for this long and not actually be smart about it? Was the stranger a by-blow of a bygone era built on strength of body and not of mind? This wolf had walked right up to their door. He had a den right in the middle of London and had driven straight from the reception back to it after seizing Sherlock. Had he taken Sherlock reflexively, not even planning to cover his tracks with more zeal or was he really that stupid? Did he think that driving away would magically make him impossible to find?The stranger was big and strong sure but now John felt nothing but scorn.

John shrugged. “You really are a big stupid dog aren't you.” Three shots rang out, quickly followed by two more. All the other wolves dropped to the floor, unable to move and slowly slipping into unconsciousness. The stranger looked shocked for a third time, “You know what still works? Ancient drugs. You can thank my amazing husband for these.” 

Sherlock chuckled weakly from the harness, the first noise he'd made since John arrived. Research into ancient lore combined with Mother's memories had thrown up some surprisingly helpful facts about lycanthropic biochemistry. The darts were all loaded with a thick liquid made of a large variety of old world herbs and roots, many of which grew in front gardens all over England! When Sherlock had made the concoction so long ago the procedure had bordered on magic. John had teased him about being the head of Potions class, offering to buy Sherlock a cauldron to continue his experiments in. Sherlock accepted and now had a miniature cast iron cauldron sitting on the mantle next to his human skull. The strange alpha snarled and ignored his fallen pack.

John and the massive alpha stood there staring each other down as the room flooded with masked operatives. All three wolves kept their guns aimed at the stranger. Under Mycroft's direction the unconscious wolves were restrained and taken away. They'd recover eventually but each of them would be contained somewhere safe until they could be dealt with. John snarled when they tried to reach for the tall stranger and so he was left alone. Sherlock was cut down and the naked man quickly locked himself in the bathroom. Greg and Mycroft stepped into the hallway and shut the door. That left John alone in the room with the stranger who hadn't batted an eyelash as his pack was taken away. The large man had begun this encounter smelling arrogant and confident. Now his scent was filled with rage and caution.

The sun was rising. Day was coming and John could feel the change begin to creep over him. Sherlock's scent filled the room as he went into heat. The stress of the situation had triggered an early beginning to his cycle. A low croon filled with longing sang in the air as Sherlock bayed for his mate. The alphas sniffed the air deeply as Sherlock's mating pheromones began to choke the room. Both men shifted instantly and attacked.

There was no other way. The stranger wasn't going to give up the newest omega he'd taken. John wasn't about to allow some mad dog take his husband HIS MATE away. This wolf was insane, clearly insane. He was a violation of the natural order. Too long alone, too long making his own rules and fearing nothing. This wolf had taken and taken and taken until his paw landed on the wrong tail. Sherlock. The omega had married well. His soldier welcomed the battlefield.

The strange wolf was dark brown and white, his body full and heavy. Ice blue eyes stared down John, mad with rage. Gleaming sharp teeth snapped at John's smaller form but the old soldier simply melted out of the way, allowing his enemy's attack to work against himself. Scooping his head under the passing body John lifted the larger animal up, flipped him using the powerful muscles of his neck and shoulders. He then slammed the huge wolf down on the floor as hard as he could. This startled the stranger who struggled to breath as he scrambled away. He was clearly used to winning based in his size and strength. John was an intelligent fighter, experienced and right now, totally pissed off.

John was also fast. He'd grown used to his wolf body. He was small compared to the others but that just made his speed and power that much more surprising to his foe. The stranger expected John to go for his throat, to go for the kill as a normal wolf would do. Instead John's teeth snapped and slashed, a great rent appearing on the stranger's ribs. Bright scarlet dripped onto his fur. The stranger yowled and backed off. His whole body shouted his shock and agony. Had the man ever been seriously wounded? If he had, it had been such a long time that he'd clearly forgotten what true pain was like. John had not and he was after all, a doctor.

Darting back and forth John ripped and bit at his opponent in strategic places. Nothing that could kill the werewolf but that wasn't John's goal. John was punishing the stranger for touching Sherlock, for kidnapping his mate, for worrying John, for exposing Sherlock, for threatening to rape an omega, for having raped omegas – that crime alone warranted death. Those poor girls!

Omegas were cherished. Omegas were rare and precious. In the long dark history of Mother's memories that fact never changed. Alphas took care of their omegas and the beta wolves helped. Omega's were to be wooed, loved, cared for, protected and kept from harm. This wolf had dominated and raped his. How he had gotten them to agree to bear children was anyone's guess. Now the larger animal was beginning to lash out wildly, desperate to protect himself from further damage. All his wounds would heal but the more there were the longer it took. The weaker he got the more likely it was that John could do something that would end him permanently. The stranger needn't of worried. That wasn't John's goal at all.

Even though the larger wolf tried desperately to fight back John was too quick, too unpredictable. John tore at the stranger's soft belly, causing it to bulge disturbingly as things were ripped loose. John crunched down on the stranger's hind leg, disabling him temporarily. The stranger screamed, his howl filled with agony. Now John tore his throat, silencing the howl in a horrible gurgle. Gripping the stranger's bloody neck John braced all four feet and shook the large animal beneath him as hard as he could. The huge animal somehow shrieked his submission, yelping piteously as loudly as he could until John dropped him onto the floor.

He stepped back. The stranger lay panting on the floor, bleeding and panting hard. His eyes were open wide, the strange icy blue fading from his eyes as he shifted back into his devastated human form. The scent of Sherlock was clouding his mind. John saw the room was full of operatives again. Greg was there and his eyes were glowing. “John. They're taking this fucker away. Myc and I are locking ourselves in a different part of the building. Anthea has this floor covered. Lock the door John. Lock the door.”

John fuzzily followed Greg to the hotel room's door and pushed it firmly shut. He closed the security bolt and heard the bathroom door unlock. Sherlock stepped out, still nude, his eyes open seeking his lover anxiously. “John.” he sighed when their gaze finally met. John stood there breathing hard. He scented the air and finally allowed his nose to fill with the irresistible smell of his omega. Oh it was good. Sherlock's scent was powerful now, alluring, captivating, inviting. He smelled ready. “I can smell your blood John. Rich. Filled with life.”

Sherlock came over and with nimble fingers he peeled John out of his battle torn clothes. “My beautiful Sherlock. I'll never give you up. You're mine my love. Are you alright my beautiful one? You were so brave, so very brave. I'm so proud of you my wonderful beauty. My brilliant, amazing, fantastic Sherlock.” John swept his hands all over his lover, checking to see if he could find traces of wounds or other indignities Sherlock might have suffered.

“He touched me a bit John. He used his finger to check me but that's as far as he went. I didn't like it. I spit in his face when he did it.” John smiled up at his omega and Sherlock leaned down for a kiss. “I feel wrong John. It's all wrong. Fix it. Fix it John.”

John knew what was wrong. Sherlock's scent was corrupted. John needed to correct that, to claim Sherlock properly, to take him until John could find no trace of the intruder on his beloved. John pushed Sherlock to the bed. Their arms scrabbled around as they threw off the pieces of lashing left on the bed from when Sherlock had been cut free.

John began to kiss and caress Sherlock all over. He was rough and rude, shoving his hand between the cleft of Sherlock's buttocks to swirl his fingers hard over Sherlock's opening. Sherlock moaned and rocked his hips. John's emotions were becoming wilder, filled with repressed anger and fear. “You let someone touch you. You've been handled by another! Did you want him Sherlock? Did you crave him? Did he make your heart beat faster!” John's voice was ugly and filled with unreasoning jealousy.

“Never John! His hand on my skin was the most terrible thing I could have experienced! He revolted me. I hurt them all trying to get free. It took them all to bind me. I didn't let him John! I couldn't stop him. You saved me John! Thanks you my wonderful John, magnificent John, beautiful brave dangerous John! Make me yours John, take me.” Sherlock's voice was pleading, worried, afraid. John felt terrible. His omega had been traumatized by what he'd endured, to have been touched and nearly forced. Sherlock didn't deserve John's anger, he was a good omega, the most perfect omega anywhere. That's why he had been stolen. Sherlock was heavenly.

John's jealousy disappeared and he became tender, apologetic. “My angel, my dove. My sweet tender darling. My poor baby, I'm here sweetie. I'm here Sherlock. I'll never let anyone touch you like that again. You are my husband, my mate, my family, my whole universe. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.” Sherlock let himself be folded into John's arms and they clung together. “My Sherlock, my marvelous wonderful omega. I was so worried. I was so afraid.”

“I knew you'd come. I knew you'd win. He may be older but he's not my John. He had no chance.” Sherlock's faith in John had never been more absolute. As devoted as John was to his wild tempestuous lover he knew that Sherlock's love and devotion for John was equally powerful.

“We used your serum. It worked.” They knew it did. John had bravely volunteered himself again and again for the trials. The serum would keep the werewolves unconscious for the rest of the day. “You saved yourself with your brilliance.”

Sherlock blushed for a second but became very interested once again in getting John to claim him. “I need you John. Please.” Sherlock arranged himself gracefully on his knees, head bowed in an unfamiliar and submissive pose. “I don't feel right John.”

Of course he didn't. John helped Sherlock back up and lay him back onto the bed. He wasted no more time. Sherlock's eyes had silvered and there was no more discussion. There was no need to talk anymore. There was only one thing left to do.

Mate.

With a soft rumbling growl Sherlock arched his back up, allowed his knees to spread apart and raised himself on his arms to look directly at John. Licking his lips slow and deliberately Sherlock lowered his upper body gracefully until only his ample behind was still raised high. The scent of Sherlock's heat sent John's mind in a rage of desire and sheer lust. There was a bottle of lube on the table. It was the cheapest brand available but John used it willingly.

Sherlock was almost whimpering with need by the time John lined himself up and began to push his way inward. Sherlock cried out his name rapturously as John took him. John rocked his body carefully, teasing his impassioned omega just enough so that his long body collapsed entirely flat onto the bed. John knelt with his knees spread wide and began to fuck Sherlock carefully. When the dark haired man began to moan and writhe John began to swivel his hips just a bit. Sherlock cried out John's name one more time and began to shake as he emptied himself onto the bed.

John kept his strokes shallow and even for a couple of minutes to allow Sherlock to recover. When the younger man was breathing easier John began to ride him deeply once more. “John! God yes!” moaned Sherlock. He was clutching a pillow he had tucked under his head, biting it's softness when John's thrusts were particularly energetic. John was giving Sherlock just what he needed, giving him all the love and passion the younger man yearned for. John bit at the sensitive bond mark on Sherlock's neck and groaned with Sherlock, both their bodies beginning to buck harder into one another.

“You're mine Sherlock. Forever. I'll never stop loving you. My wonderful, gorgeous, fantastic Sherlock!” Sherlock groaned beneath John who rolled his hips. That made Sherlock shout a bit so John did it again until both men were nearly sobbing with pleasure. Their bodies moved hard and fast now, both of them chasing their orgasm together. Panting loudly both men groaned and shook as their bodies released. John drove himself deeply into his lover and emptied himself, finally erasing the last trace of the stranger's presence. 

The men lay there limp and exhausted. They rested quietly, taking advantage of their satiation. Sherlock's eyes returned to their normal undefinable color and John held his hand loosely. There was no need to talk yet and they needed to save their strength. It was early in the day and Sherlock's heat would only grow stronger. By nightfall when they shifted both men would be overcome with the desire to knot. There were a lot of hours between now and then with only brief breaks in between. John needed to conserve his strength.

Sure enough twenty minutes later Sherlock rolled onto his stomach and glanced over his shoulder toward John, his silver eyes demanding and eager. John grinned and got them both ready. Even in this strange room away from Baker Street being locked away with Sherlock for three days of endless sex presented a challenge. John never backed down from a challenge. The game was on.

 

 

NOTE: You can get nearly anything as a plush toys these days. That one bit was inspired by a total random picture I encountered. It didn't even have anything to do with Sherlock or John. It just made me laugh way too much. Should inappropriate presents ever be required in life, these are good suggestions.

 


	2. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is over but time has run out. You can't fight your biology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves. You will not believe what an unhealthy amount of caffeine can make you write.

While the pack was being taken away Greg looked at Mycroft with worry. “Are you sure we don't have time to get home?” Mycroft shook his head. How could you transport four loudly mating wolves discretely through London during the day? You couldn't. Even if they had time to find a vehicle large enough that was also appropriately sound-proofed you couldn't get near the omegas to move them without being torn to pieces by the alphas. Mycroft could feel the urges building up inside him. It was impossible to resist it, even if he had more than one moon's worth of experience as being a wolf. Heat coursed through him and by Greg's reaction Mycroft knew he was filling the air with pheromones of his own. 

Anthea was there, directing the removal of the pack to their holding facility. Greg was glaring at everyone else which hurried them along. Mycroft turned to Anthea as Greg took his hand, “We need a room, food and water later and lots of privacy. It's about to get loud. Three days.” Anthea nodded and shooed everyone away all at once, snapping out orders easily. Mycroft dragged Greg away, pushing open doors until they found a room with a mattress on the floor that wasn't too badly stained. “A little repulsive.” thought Greg as he managed to deadbolt the door shut.

That didn't matter when Mycroft turned to face him, his beautiful eyes flashing silver and filled with hunger. “Gregory.” he breathed. Shedding his clothes and gun quickly Mycroft stripped down to his skin and presented himself on the gritty bed. The mattress was sprung as well as stained. Nope. It didn't matter in the slightest. Greg almost wrenched his own arm off getting out of his own clothes. They had nothing to ease the way. “Spit Gregory. Do it. Now.”

Filthy and unbelievably hot! Greg was quick about it. He used his own saliva to coat himself after he worked his generously lubricated fingers on Mycroft's entrance. As quickly as he could he pushed his way into the long narrow body of his omega. “Myc!” groaned Greg. How Greg loved his beautiful omega. “Now baby, now.” he urged and with a blink both men blended.

It was insanely good. They could feel themselves enter and be entered. They could feel the tightness of their lover's flesh around their own, felt themselves gripping the other passionately. Their hearts raced in tandem and the glory of their union was so sweet, so sharp that they nearly reached completion almost as soon as they began. They whispered words of love and devotion back and forth, using each pair of lips to repeat the words as often as they could. They kept themselves together, lost in their pleasurable pursuits until nearly dusk.

They rested for a bit every so often. Mycroft checked his phone and noted that a delivery had been made. Greg opened the door and pulled in a large basket filled with protein bars, lots of water as well as a huge assortment of power snacks and a large bottle of lube. There was also a sheet set with an absorbent pad sized for the seriously abused bed they were using. Anthea was indeed a marvel. Eating quickly and using the barely functioning facilities Mycroft and Greg were soon back onto their freshly made bed, this time with a grateful Mycroft smoothing on generous amounts of lube before encouraging Greg to take him.

The moon came out and their bodies shifted effortlessly. Howls rang through the darkness as the lovers called to their mates, demanding to be united, demanding to be joined. Greg mounted the slim form of his omega in a haze of lust. Driving himself deep into Mycroft's Greg felt his hips fall into a throbbing rhythm. His claws dug deep into the now ruffled fur on Mycroft's back and Greg couldn't stop himself from taking Mycroft's neck in his mouth and biting firmly. 

Mycroft's body howled deep and low. His whole body trembled. With a fearsome thrust Greg's body forced itself as deep as he could into Mycroft and felt itself catch tight. As soon as they knotted both wolves howled, wild with pleasure. Greg's hips bucked as much as they were able, each tug and thrust causing Mycroft to whimper and moaned sensuously. The dual sensations were driving the pair to the heights rapidly. Soon all they could feel was the throbbing pulse of their union. All rational thought had fled and both men allowed their passions to dictate their actions. Eventually they would separate both mind and body but not now, not this full moon when things could have gone so wrong but instead had managed to go so right. For a dark moment they'd experienced fear and loss so right now the only thing the wolves were interested in was loving one another as much as they were able to.

Three days passed that way. The floor of the abandoned building was filled with howls and moans as the wolves mated all the way through their heat. Anthea made sure their snacks and drinks were replenished but otherwise kept everyone away until it was finally over. She had new clothes delivered and discrete cars ready to deliver each pair back to their homes to clean up and rest up.

After a very long shower followed by an even longer nap John woke up late in the day starving. He ordered in a large quantity of food and took himself back to the shower once again. Once he was clean the doctor teased Sherlock awake and chased his lover into the shower to wash up before their meal. “We have to eat Sherlock. We've got lots to do now and the last few days took a lot out of us.”

Sherlock complained only out of habit. He was used to being pampered on his last day which had been yesterday but it hadn't happened because they had been trapped in the abandoned building. John was making up for it today a bit. He had ordered in all of Sherlock's favorite meals and was allowing Sherlock to take one or two bites from each container instead of forcing him to choose a single meal. John ate heartily and with good humor.

“We'll need to speak to the others John, as soon as can be arranged. We'll need to discuss their living situation too. Those girls are pregnant, we don't even know how they did during the moon. Did they change? How many people saw them?” There was a tap at the door. A cautious sniff showed it to be Mycroft, Greg and Anthea. All of them were allowed in. Greg sat at the table and began picking at the meals with John.

Sherlock stopped eating the second the first distraction came his way and Mycroft cringed away from the overloaded table as if the the fat in the food was going to attack his hips directly without involving his mouth. Anthea merely stood off to the side, her mobile permanently fixed to her hand. “Where have you kept them?” demanded Sherlock.

Anthea just answered calmly, “We have a holding area we use for containing people we don't want known. None of them changed during the moon. The women volunteered the information though, they don't change while they're pregnant and beta wolves change only when necessary. They aren't driven by the moon phases except the for the first moon they experience. After that they can change into wolves whenever they want but generally prefer to stay as human as possible. They're waiting to speak to John though. They refuse to say much of anything to anyone except to reassure us that they would do no harm. They've been well cared for and they don't seem unhappy.”

Sherlock and Mycroft both nodded slowly as if understanding something. “I'll want to see them as soon as possible then.” decided John. Anthea nodded and tapped out a message on her phone. By the time they left 221B a car was waiting to take them. A long wind through the city brought them to the gates of an old asylum. The guard at the gate let them through and soon they were striding down well lit hallways behind Anthea.

They were brought to a long narrow room. It was divided into three long strips. The center of the room was open so that visitors or observers could walk up and down in front of the containment cells. On opposing walls were three glassed in cubes. The cubes contained a bed, a toilet with a privacy curtain, a sink and a werewolf. The first girl raised her hand and waved hello. The men smiled anxiously and bobbed their heads. The last two women stared hard at John and then inclined their heads stiffly. Everyone was dressed in similar outfits, loose pajamas with light green robes. The alpha lay on his bed, back turned to everyone and didn't move. His wounds had clearly healed. 

Sherlock paced up and down first. He examined everyone except the alpha before making a decision. “That one John. The woman with black hair.” There was one brunette, one blond and one redhead. All of them seemed young but if Mother spoke the truth these women could be as old as they appeared or thousands of years into their lives. The woman who had caught Sherlock's attention was almost imperious. She wasn't tall but she held herself straight and proud. Her body was slight which made the bump at her waist noticeable. She stood alone in her cell, her pregnancy just beginning to show and she wasn't afraid anymore.

John nodded and the woman was released and brought to them. John reached out and shook the woman's hand when she came into the room. She seemed very startled at the gesture. “I'm John. This is my mate Sherlock, his brother Mycroft and his husband Greg.”

Her rich brown eyes darted back and forth over each man's face. Her hands turned up and extended to her sides as she sank into a formal curtsy. “I am Titania. I was honor-bonded to Vuk.” Once named the stranger simply shifted a bit on his bed but otherwise remained unaffected.

“Honor-bonded?” asked John. Clearly this should mean something to John but it didn't. He looked at Sherlock who just appeared curious. The woman tilted her head, confused. “Please explain yourself. What is honor-bonding?”

Titania inclined her dark head regally as soon as he spoke. “Of course Khagan, as you wish. Honor-bonding happens between bloodlines who wish to combine or to form an alliance of some kind. Vuk received me as payment for a blood-debt. He is allowing me a single child to send back to my family. I have been bonded to him for nearly seventy years now. The others are new.”

“New? What do you mean new?” demanded John. “Please explain your situation as best as you are able.” Titania bowed again and closed her eyes, clearly composing her thoughts. Her hands turned upward again almost formally before she began to speak.

“Werewolves are uncommon but not impossible to find. There are tribes scattered here and there all over the world. Most of them are old bloodlines, established in territories that have been theirs for thousands of years. The tribes grow smaller, weaker every year that passes. Vuk is strong, comes from old blood. Some say he is even a distant descendant of The First Daughter. Vuk learned that England had no tribe. He wanted to take root here, grow a new family, create a new pack and become the ruling clan of this island and expand his territory. Vuk has traveled for years claiming his due from those who owed him greatly. What you see before you is the fruit of his efforts.”

“You have no choice in this?” asked Sherlock sharply. Titania looked back at him, her eyes filled with consideration. A slender hand stroked over her pregnant belly as she thought.

“I could have refused his advances but what honor would that have brought me or my family? My maker would suffer such shame, far worse than the debt that brought us to this. I had no way to pass along my legacy except through this babe. Vuk would not let me turn a wolf of my own. My child will grow up without me but at least it will know my family and carry my blood forward into the future. Now that future is in your hands Khagan.” Titania bowed formally to John again.

“What about the others?” asked Mycroft glancing over the remaining wolves. Titania shifted a bit as if to refuse an answer but when John looked at her she bowed gracefully once again and answered.

“Each is similar to myself. Each of us was given to Vuk as payment for various debts. For the women it is slightly better, especially after we were all successfully bred one after the other. The men. I would not wish their past on anyone. Vuk is cruel and wicked.” She wouldn't say anything more but no one could miss the two betas sink weakly down onto their respective beds as they heard her. Both men looked pale and resolutely turned themselves away from Vuk as much as they could.

“How did he earn all of you? Do you know?” asked Greg. He was staring at Vuk with loathing on his face. Titania's face grew cold and expressionless. She closed her mouth firmly and would not speak. John nodded. He understood. Whatever it was that had happened it was enough for a family to give up a much loved member into the hands of a despotic and rabid wolf like Vuk. None of them wanted to explain the shame they'd taken away from their families by becoming Vuk's chattel. 

Titania seemed compelled to offer some kind of answer, even if it didn't exactly address the question, “Vuk seeks out people in their worst moments, extracts the promise of payment and then helps them with their woes. He is a disease but a successful one. The honor-bonds give him control over the packs we come from. His influence was spread far and wide. No one dared challenge him. He has answered to no one for a very long time. You have freed us from him Khagan.” If John had known a bit more about Vuk he might not have fought him so cavalierly. On the other hand the alpha in him demanded retribution for the insult to his omega and beating Vuk had felt very, very right. Titania bowed again, this time so deeply John was worried her fetus might suffer for it.

“Why do you keep calling him that. Khagan. His name is John.” said Sherlock with a snap. Titania's eyes looked a little uneasy and she gave Sherlock a bow that was nearly as obsequious as the one she had just given John.

Her voice was filled with respect as she spoke from somewhere down by her knees. “Master John has overpowered Vuk in battle. He has become our alpha. We are the children of many other tribes, all of whom owned their allegiance to Vuk. You have taken his honor. Now our packs own allegiance to you. You are the leader of leaders, our king, therefore you are called Khagan as Vuk was once called.”

John was a little stunned to discover that with a single fight he'd accidentally managed to become the king of werewolves all over. He looked at Sherlock. If he was king, what did that make Sherlock? John wasn't looking forward to the temper tantrum he could expect if Sherlock were referred to as Queen. They hadn't spent much time trying to figure out werewolf society seeing as they had other more important issues to deal with while picking through Mother's memories. This was all coming as rather a large surprise. 

John asked Titania about Sherlock's status. “Your mate becomes leader of your pack, beneath you but above all others. He will be known as Khan.” she explained the title and bowed yet again. Sherlock and John looked at one another. Just like that they were royalty.

“That's the stupidest name I've ever heard! I refuse to be known by it.” huffed Sherlock but Titania looked so shocked and offended that he actually stopped complaining. Grumpily Sherlock asked her, “Who else is known as Khan? Were you Khan to Vuk?”

“You are the only Khan. You are Khagan's true mate, only you can be Khan.” She bowed to Sherlock. Sherlock's face was an odd combination of surprise and disdain. John looked back at the short woman standing in front of him. She was really quite tiny, even compared to John. She bowed as soon as their eyes met. All her bobbing up and down was beginning to make John a little sea-sick. “I am not Vuk's proper bond mate. I cannot be Khan. He has made no proposal to me, no offer to bond properly. Only the honor-bond binds me and you have broken it. Now we are your family.”

Titania made to bow again but John stopped her. “Cease. I don't require bows. However you will be spending time explaining your circumstances to us. Without the bowing. Or that head thingy. We have many differences and if I'm supposed to be the king of you I really need to have some questions answered.” John was NOT prepared to be the king of wolves no matter how cool the title sounded.

She fell to her knees, the other two women as well. “I offer you all I know Khagan in exchange for the life of my child. Even though it is Vuk's, please, I beg you, spare my baby.” John was almost sick. Titania's face was vulnerable, teary and sincere in her pleading. All three women extended their arms imploringly toward John. Sherlock made a gagging sound and John knew his mate had been as upset as he was by the entire concept.

“I would never harm your child! None of them! Never! I am a doctor. I'm going to make sure you get whatever care you require. You said I was your king, well, this king doesn't abuse his subjects, especially babies. As long as I'm in charge you will never have to fear for your children, regardless of their father.” John was horrified that they had thought he was prepared to destroy their unborn young. What kind of person did that? How? Why would anyone want to! The other two women wept silently, clearly overwhelmed with relief.

“We are yours Great Khagan. You have our loyalty and honor for all our long years. We so swear it.” Now the men fell to their knees and with the other women they made their oaths. John didn't know what to say. This was all sudden and completely not what he was expecting. A month ago it had been just the two of them, carefree and together. In that time John had gained an entire pack that had just grown by six bodies and three incoming.

John was reeling. There was nothing more he could say to these people. They couldn't stay here. He couldn't house six wolves at Baker Street, especially Vuk! What in the world were they going to do with him? With any of them? John was concerned. Clearly this pack had been led unwillingly into London. They weren't responsible for Sherlock's kidnapping but had been forced to help. There were the babies to think of. John sighed as he came to the inevitable conclusion. There was only one safe choice. “Bring them to Baskerville.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to take me a few more days to work out the next bit but only because of how much gratuitous smut I'm going to be throwing at you. Stay tuned for the opportunity to say "OMG I can't believe you did that!"
> 
> leobutler - thanks again. That was a great suggestion. I welcome any others. See what happens when you throw even the smallest crumb my way?


	3. New Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much has happened! Things are changing so quickly. John's head is spinning but one thing never changes, he loves his Sherlock. Luckily for John Sherlock is head over heels with his alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut alert! Extreme naughtiness is about to ensue. If that troubles you then you are reading the wrong fic.
> 
> These boys are best friends. Some giggles are likely to occur.

Baskerville was all theirs now. The transition had happened smoothly the day before the reception. Anthea's teams had moved in and before the employees of the facility knew what was going on all their employers had been replaced, the remaining staff had received raises and all of them were temporarily on hiatus pending review of their projects. A great deal of the projects had been suspended entirely, their allocated space being re-purposed using Sherlock's specifications.

The day after their discussion with Titania the new wolves were brought to Baskerville and housed in a recently emptied test wing. They had an apartment each, small but relatively private. John got them street clothes to wear instead of pajamas and tried to make them all as comfortable as possible. All of them got a small TV and a laptop with minimum access to the 'net for entertainment. The new pack settled themselves gratefully.

Not Vuk. He was placed in a containment cell in an entirely different part of the facility. The new wolves didn't want anything to do with him and John's pack instinctively wanted to make their new family members comfortable. Vuk's spirit was completely broken. He refused to talk, behaved almost meekly and seemed almost afraid of Sherlock for some reason. He flinched away from the omega and kept his large head down. He hadn't changed during the full moon either, his wounds too grievous and the shock of missing the event had deeply disturbed the former leader.

It was the oddest experience. They didn't know these people. John hadn't even gotten anyone but Titania's name yet. Regardless when John and his pack looked upon their newest members they all felt a protective urge to get them settled, make them relaxed, to care for them. The women especially seemed to trigger the strongest urges. Even Sherlock inquired after all of them personally, speaking in soft gentle tones as if worried he might startle them. All of them were timid to one degree or another. Titania was the only one brave enough to speak directly to them but even she masked her nervousness in excessive politeness.

John kept the day short. Everyone needed time to think, to slow down and absorb the changes. Tomorrow John planned to spend the day getting to know the people he was now responsible for. Denying Sherlock's request to begin clinically examining all of them John decided that tonight would be a rest night. Dismissing Mycroft and Greg to their personal suite John and Sherlock made their way to theirs. Anthea, ever efficient, had quickly converted rooms from the previous senior management into domiciles for their use. The suites were roomy but not huge and were equipped with furnishings for the single bedroom, the living room, kitchen and boasted a rather decadent bathroom.

After enjoying some tea John sank onto the overly plush sofa, already missing the sofa at 221 B. He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing his arms to sag by his sides as he tried to get a grip on every astounding thing that had happened to him recently. Sherlock was pacing around, clearly already close to boredom. John patted the cushion next to him. “Come here.”

Sherlock stepped over and settled himself on the sofa. John smiled over at his husband and Sherlock grinned back. “Yes my king?” the tall man teased. John groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“Sherlock don't.” John spoke through his fingers but Sherlock just laughed. John could barely manage the concept of there being more werewolves around than the four of them. In a single day not only did he discover there were loads of werewolves but that he had completely bumbled into becoming their monarch. It was too much and Sherlock taking the piss was not helping.

“As you wish oh mighty Khagan.” Sherlock bent his upper body and extended his arms flamboyantly in a parody of Titania's many bows. Sherlock was enticingly flexible and normally John would find a display like this very arousing. Sherlock kept bending and bending his hands doing a complex dance of their own as he sank lower. John tried not to laugh but Sherlock looked so silly and he never acted this way. Despite his best efforts John giggled.

“Stop it.” demanded John with a smile on his face. He loved Sherlock so much. His brilliant omega was a delight and John felt very lucky that his lover was also his best friend.

“I won't.” said Sherlock flippantly. He rose slowly back into a more normal sitting position.

“You won't or you Khan't?” Sherlock glared at John who began to laugh for real. “Come on love, you walked right into that one.”

“John don't! I don't want to be known as Khan! Okay I promise to stop using your titles but you have to stop using that one. It makes me sound like I'm tinned or something.” Sherlock sounded offended.

“I Khan try Sherlock.” Sherlock glared at John again for having squeezed one last tease into his promise.

“Very amusing John. I bet that will have all the other omega's falling all over themselves for you.” Sherlock pouted on the sofa, facing forward and no longer looking at John. The taller man smelled jealous all of a sudden. John smiled over at his lover.

“They are a lovely bunch aren't they? I wonder how Vuk did it, three at once?” John couldn't help himself. He kept his laughter inside as Sherlock began to steam quietly, his jealousy beginning to spike dramatically. John let him stew for only a few seconds before he reached out with his mind to show Sherlock exactly how much John loved him and that even if the other omegas had not been pregnant with another wolf's child none of them were intriguing enough to interest John more than Sherlock did.

Sherlock melted right into John, all teases and pouts completely gone. He allowed his long lean body to drape over John's as they met in a slow deep kiss. John held Sherlock tight to him with one arm and allowed his free hand to roam over Sherlock's inviting body.

“I love you Sherlock. I want only you. I'll only ever want you. You are mine and I am yours. Forever. When I do father children they will be with you and no one else. One day in the near future you will be able to give us that gift, after everything is ready.” Sherlock had a lot of problems to solve before he could allow himself to become pregnant. Though any child would be loved dearly Sherlock wanted to gift his progeny with the chance to become werewolves.

“You big romantic you.” teased Sherlock softly after John's impassioned declaration. Both men chuckled softly and held each other tightly. Sherlock nuzzled John's face tenderly before placing a small kiss on his cheek. “Have I mentioned how hot it was watching you fight?”

As a matter of fact Sherlock had not. John quirked an eyebrow. “You liked watching me get bloody?” Sherlock stood up and placed himself directly in front of John. Pushing on John's shoulder Sherlock made the alpha sit all the way back before straddling John's hips slowly and settling himself deliberately onto John's very welcoming lap.

“I liked seeing you take charge. I liked seeing your face when you made him bleed first. I liked how fast you were, how strong you are. I liked the surprise on that brute's face when he realized he had no chance in hell against you. You were masterful John. Powerful. So incredibly sexy and you're mine!” With a heated sigh Sherlock began to kiss John's mouth. “Only mine John. No extra spouses or concubines or whatever else these werewolves might expect. I won't have it.”

“No one but you Sherlock, never. You are the only wolf for me.” John had no problem making this promise. He couldn't even fathom the idea of taking another lover. The girls all seemed very young, almost like daughters and he mentally cringed at the idea of taking them to bed. The men fared no better in John's very NOT gay mind. He really, really wasn't gay. No man had ever caught his attention sexually. Only Sherlock. Sherlock was more than everyone else though. Sherlock broke the mold. He was unique. Unmatched. Singular. John's. Oh yes Sherlock was John's and John was Sherlock's. Neither of them could ever find someone better than the man currently in his arms. Perfection.

John slid his hand up Sherlock's back slowly. Carefully he maneuvered his hand until he was grasping his lover's neck. Squeezing gently John held Sherlock's body to him and lay his lover down. Sherlock's eyes were luminous, the wild colors more vibrant than ever as he gazed up at John. Sherlock deliberately let his head fall back, exposing his long pale neck invitingly.

John kissed and bit his way over that tempting column drawing soft fluttering moans from Sherlock. John marked his lover all over, sucking temporary bruises everywhere. Sherlock arched his body into John's and flung his head back a little further. Sherlock's neck was no longer enough. With hardly a pause John sat back and stripped away his clothes. He leaned in and unbuttoned Sherlock, allowing his lover to stand only long enough to be bared before John lay him back down once more.

Sherlock was already completely aroused. His cock lay hard and leaking on his flat belly. His chest heaved as he struggled to mediate his breathing, forcing himself to wait for John. John looked down at his omega. “Don't move.” he retreated to the bedroom and then the bathroom. John returned equipped with lube from their luggage and damp flannels which he dropped on the coffee table. The lube was safely tucked into the sofa cushions at the ready.

Now John could concentrate. He looked Sherlock over. The long pale body sprawled in front of him never stopped making John's mouth go dry. Sherlock was smooth and graceful. The androgyny of his form was what made John so addicted. Sherlock's body was masculine but the way he moved! His amazing ass! Sherlock was enticingly lithe, every creamy inch of him begged to be explored again and again. John did not fail.

With a hot and hungry mouth John devoured his lover. Sherlock writhed beneath him as John licked and kissed Sherlock everywhere. Small bruises flared temporarily into life and for several minutes John teased Sherlock's nipple cruelly, almost making Sherlock come with the fierce stimulation. Just as Sherlock was about to pass the point of no return John stopped and kissed Sherlock's mouth until the younger man was panting weakly.

At long last John allowed his hands to spread over Sherlock's ample cheeks, opening him wide before tasting him. Sherlock was far gone already, gasping and sighing wordlessly as John teased him relentlessly. John pressed his mouth to Sherlock, allowing his tongue to work gently until he felt his lover press anxiously against him, urging him to take it further. John complied. When Sherlock was twisting and moaning helplessly John paused long enough to dribble lube onto his finger, working the first one in slowly.

“John! Yes!” Sherlock's body rocked hard into John's hand. “More!” John could not say no. He carefully withdrew his finger before slowly pushing it back in, a second finger along side it. Working slowly and diligently John slid back and forth until he was moving easily. He began to scissor his fingers back and forth, opening Sherlock carefully.

Opening Sherlock. He was opening Sherlock. John's head came up and he sat back, “Khan opener.” he said without thinking. Sherlock squeaked indignantly and pulled himself off of John's hand with a rude squelch. The taller man glared over at his lover.

“That's it John. This night is over.” Sherlock rolled himself off the sofa and stalked away to the bedroom, his ass glistening from where John's hand had been only a minute before. John sat there on the couch with lube slick fingers and an erection that was demanding to know why his mouth was so stupid.

John got up, grabbed the lube and flannels. He walked awkwardly but quickly toward the bedroom. Sherlock had shut the door firmly. John pushed his way in and put everything on the side dresser. Sherlock was already deep under the covers, his back to the door and his shoulders tense. The omega was offended and very put out. John castigated himself again. Why had he said anything? He could have kept the joke to himself! Why right then? Now look what had happened. Sherlock was in a temper. “You have the worst timing in the world John Watson. Why don't you and your jokes go sleep out front.” Sherlock was almost hissing.

“I'm sorry Sherlock! It popped into my head and came right out of my mouth. I'm sorry!” John reached out with his mind and poured his whole heart into it as well. He apologized, letting Sherlock see how sorry he was, admitted that he was an idiot and begged to please please please continue what they'd been doing. Sherlock kept his back turned but his shoulders relaxed the tiniest fraction. That was all the signal John needed. He slipped into bed and hugged Sherlock tight from behind, spooning up to his husband. “I'm a jerk. I'm sorry my darling.”

Sherlock didn't say a word but he did soften enough to allow himself to be cuddled tight. John nuzzled at his mate until the nudges became soft kisses. John was exploring again. This time he kept his comments to himself as he retraced his earlier steps, taking Sherlock apart one piece at a time until the omega was keening beneath him and begging for more. This time John kept Sherlock on his stomach. Kneeling back John smoothed a heavy handful of lube onto his aching cock. He'd been aroused for ages now. Spreading the bounty of Sherlock's glorious ass wide John prepared his lover fervently. Desperate for union John lined himself up before pushing himself deep in one hard thrust. Sherlock's knees spread wide and John's body drove even deeper. Keening again Sherlock rocked his hips, begging John to begin.

John braced himself, his hands gripping Sherlock's slim hips tight as he began to thrust. His Sherlock was beautiful and so clever. He was hot blooded and fiery. His wonderful omega was the sexiest creature on the planet and he felt so fucking good. John groaned deeply as the sheer enjoyment of the act swept him away. John's thrusts picked up a pace and rhythm. He went slow and deep then he went hard and fast. He rolled his hips and occasionally gave a little twist. Sherlock's moans were broken with panting breaths as he accepted everything John was doing to him.

John lay full on Sherlock's back, holding his omega tight beneath him. Breathing heavily into the back of Sherlock's head John's body began to pound into him. Sherlock's cries became louder and louder as John began to hammer inward, the whole bed shaking from his efforts. “John! Oh John! I'm! I'm! Oh god!” Sherlock bucked beneath him and John felt Sherlock's body clench tight. Both men groaned long and deeply as their orgasm burned through them. Their taut bodies trembled and shuddered together as John's hips drove reflexively inward. John felt his seed spurt deep into Sherlock's body and smelled his own scent mixed irrevocably with his mate's.

John pulled away and turned Sherlock over so he could kiss him. He was still hungry for more, still needed more. John bit and sucked at Sherlock's mouth, taking him deeply to taste his lover. He slid his hands down Sherlock's arms until he could tangle their fingers together. Sitting back and straddling Sherlock's narrow waist John drew Sherlock's hands up to caress his chest. John swirled the long hard pads of Sherlock's musician's hands over the stiff nubs of his chest and gasped as Sherlock took hold and pinched firmly. John shuddered with pleasure. His own hands dropped away as Sherlock explored on his own.

When Sherlock's hands reached John's hips John placed his own hands over them. Guiding his lover John spread himself wide open and rocked back suggestively. Sherlock looked up at him, “You sure?”

John nodded and smiled hungrily. “I'm sure. It's been a long time.” In the beginning they had switched back and forth, topping or bottoming as the mood took them. As time went by the couple had become accustomed to John always dominating. Tonight John was in the mood for something different. Sherlock's smile was eager and now as hungry as John's.

With a twist of his hips Sherlock rolled them over so John was trapped beneath his long body. John smiled easily and simply spread his legs wide. Sherlock growled softly and began to nip and kiss his way downward. John lay back and enjoyed the assault. Sherlock wasn't quiet. He made appreciative little sounds, cooing and growling in turn as he made his way along. When his face was finally buried between John's legs he was almost obscene. John could only lay back and moan as Sherlock's tongue wiggled and thrust, opening him wetly.

Sherlock finally sat back, his chin glistening with saliva. Deliberately he wiped at the mess with his arm, carelessly smearing it away. John's cock leapt at the sight of Sherlock's complete departure from decorum. Sherlock took the lube and slowly dribbled some onto his fingers, relishing every moment. When he finally placed those long hard digits against John's heated flesh John was already bucking and moaning. “So eager.” murmured Sherlock.

John's back arched when that first long cool finger pressed inside him. Sherlock was so good at this, his clever hands knowing just when to twist. It wasn't long before a second was added, a third and then surprisingly a forth. “What are you doing Sherlock?”

Sherlock sat back and stood on the bed. He looked down at John, his cock jutting out boldly. “Shift.” he demanded. John was shocked. They'd never tried this. They hadn't even thought about it. John shifted, turning to present himself to the black wolf behind him. John felt the strange weight of Sherlock on his hips, felt his tail being pushed aside. When the tip of Sherlock's cock began to seek entrance John's body tried to jerk away.

Sherlock wasn't having any of that. Suddenly long thin arms dug claws into John's thick fur and John felt the elegantly narrow but razor sharp bite of Sherlock's jaws on the back of his neck. A single searing thrust and Sherlock was buried to the hilt. John couldn't stop himself. He howled. Sherlock snarled into his fur and began to pump swiftly. Each jab was nearly painful but at the same time John wanted more. He felt a hard bumping against his entrance after a while and realized that Sherlock had formed a knot. He felt Sherlock's mind call a warning just a fraction of a second before it happened.

One last savage thrust had forced Sherlock's knot deep into John's behind. The pain of it made John want to scream but at the exact same moment John was wracked with a wave of intense pleasure. He howled again. John could feel Sherlock crying his name out in his mind but all he could do was howl over and over again as the pain and pleasure warred with each other. It went on for an eternity. John thought he would lose his mind before Sherlock finally softened and pulled away. John shifted back instantly, almost sobbing into his pillow.

Sherlock panted for a minute before he shifted back. His whole body was trembling and he lay himself tight to John's back, hands stroking his lover everywhere as he soothed him. “Are you alright John?” asked Sherlock, his voice filled with love and worry. John opened his mind to his lover and showed Sherlock how incredibly blissed out he was, how amazingly satisfied he was and how lovely the soreness felt matched with the euphoria of his release. Sherlock relaxed and cuddled his doctor close. “That was amazing John. It's always amazing.”

John nodded weakly. He was so tired now. His eyes were fluttering shut when he realized Sherlock hadn't moved and was laying almost completely on John, limp and motionless. He'd fallen asleep. John closed his eyes and let the heat from Sherlock's sweat soaked body seep into him. He felt replete, content and very relaxed. Sleep came easily.

[art by RedPassion](http://redpassion.deviantart.com/) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut break over. The next installment will bring the storyline harder into play. If you've seen something you enjoyed let me know so I can do it again.


	4. The Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock have a whole new group of people to become acquainted with, a species to save and so much more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many plans. So many goals. I have ideas just spinning around and quite frankly I don't type nearly fast enough. I think I've hit my stride though and this story is really beginning to come together.

The next morning required an extra long and very hot shower as they washed off the remnants of the night before. John had forgotten all about the flannels he had prepared and wouldn't have bothered anyway. That would have involved moving and at the time it hadn't seemed worth the effort. By the time they were in robes and eating their simple breakfast there was a tap at the door. Mycroft and Greg came in, both in suits. “Good morning. We'll be meeting with Titania and the others in a conference room after they finish their breakfasts. It won't be long now. Sherlock?” Mycroft had a handful of thin files in his hand. Sherlock abandoned the rest of his food to begin going over research reports with his brother. Greg sat down and John poured him a cup of tea.

“Shouldn't I be serving you or something?” teased Greg. John rolled his eyes. John was a good host. He took pride in it. He pushed Greg the plate of Sherlock's food after giving Greg his tea.

“We need to get that issue squared away. I'm not a royal. I have no idea how to be king! I know almost nothing about being a werewolf. How am I supposed to king over them?” John complained loudly.

Greg just picked at Sherlock's uneaten food and shrugged. “Vuk did it and he seems thick as a brick. I'm sure you can manage. Also, you've got a little something in your corner.”

John shot a curious look at the former DI. “What do I have in my corner.”

“Mycroft. Mr Minor-position-in-the-government. You may not know how to rule but he does. He'll help behind the scenes. It's what he does. He's good at it.” Greg looked over at his husband proudly. John looked over as well. Both Mycroft and Sherlock had stopped speaking and looked back.

“I am.” was all Mycroft said before he and Sherlock became re-engrossed in their discussion. They seemed to be arguing but mostly by naming off various mathematicians or scientists of note. However that impacted their interpretation of the data in their hands John couldn't know.

“Listen John, Myc and I talked about this last night. This whole situation is going to work out fantastic for us. We have real live pregnant werewolves right here! We can monitor their pregnancies, learn all about what they need and try to fix any problems that come up. Sherlock and Mycroft have only begun their research but with living children to observe so much guesswork will be cleared up and they can make some real progress. They could have this problem solved before Sherlock finishes maturing.” Greg was very clear as he explained the situation. It was very unlike him. John then realized Greg was explaining the whole project from the combined view he enjoyed with Mycroft who also wanted children. In a very particular way Greg knew everything Mycroft knew. On the other hand Greg was more like John and was able to present the issue in a way that wasn't choking with polysyllabic pomposity. John was once again struck at how very convenient this was. It was like having his own personal Holmes translator. Brilliant.

“No testing on them unless they agree! They are free people not animals.” John warned, not that he'd let Sherlock test on animals either. At least not live ones. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“They are our pack John. Of course we won't hurt them. Still we can't waste the opportunity to learn about werewolf pregnancy and right now we have an entire set of pregnant women to watch. Breakfast must be over by now. Come along John. I want to meet everyone.” Bossy Sherlock. Now John was the one rolling his eyes, they weren't even clothed yet. Shooing Sherlock into the bedroom they got dressed. Sherlock tried to get John to wear a suit but John refused and got into jeans and a jumper instead. Sherlock began to complain, “John!”

“No! I'm not wearing a suit! I want to wear my normal everyday clothes. This is our new family, not bankers we need to impress! You and Mycroft are used to wearing suits, Greg wears suits for work or he used to. I don't. I wear jumpers. Today it's stripes. It could be the kitten one tomorrow, we just don't know.” John frowned at Sherlock.

“John I swear your taste in jumpers has gotten deliberately worse since we were bitten. The kitten one is atrocious!” Sherlock wasn't wrong. The more the omega complained about John's jumpers the harder John searched for ones that were particularly awful. The fluffy calico kitten sweater had been a lucky find at a craft store. It had been made as a knitting project and never meant to be worn. John wore it anyway and promised himself he'd wear it the next day for certain, just to aggravate Sherlock.

They left the suite bickering companionably. It didn't take long to make their way to the conference room where their new pack was waiting anxiously. Everyone stood the second John entered the room. They made to bow but John stuck his hand out. “Stop.” 

They stopped. John walked forward and approached the man closest to him. The wolf had reddish brown hair and creamy skin. He was fractionally taller than Sherlock but held himself in a way that made him seem smaller. He was broad in the shoulders and heavily muscled and he was wearing jeans and a checked shirt. His eyes were smoky gray and he seemed very timid. “I'm Ethan.” He had a deep voice, soft and gentle. John shook his hand.

The next man was taller still, also red of hair and athletic looking. He reminded John a bit of Sherlock but only because his body seemed longer than it was, lean and angular. His eyes were also bright blue. He looked nervous and shook John's hand with a sweaty palm. His voice sounded rough when he introduced himself, “Patrick.”

The auburn haired woman stepped forward. Like the others she was willowy which just made her pregnancy obvious. She was the tallest of the females, her demeanor like Titania, haughty but polite. Her green eyes were large and luminous. “I am Siofra.” Her voice was high and sweet, unlike the dark exotic Titania.

The last woman stepped forward. Her blond hair was loose on her shoulders and she had sweet innocent blue eyes and a rich warm voice. “I am Ilva.” Her accent was strong and gave her homeland away. She was from northern Europe.

John smiled warmly all around. “I'm glad to meet all of you. I wanted to come here today to welcome you all to England. I know none of us have met under the best circumstances but we're all here now so I'd like to get to know you all better. You of course have met my husband and mate, Sherlock.” John sounded friendly but when he indicated Sherlock all of them blanched and began to bow before stopping themselves. “This is my brother in law Mycroft and his husband and mate, Greg.”

All eyes swiveled to the new pair and five heads started to bow before stopping themselves. “Come, let's sit.” Sherlock was unaccountably polite. He didn't even smell sarcastic. He was genuinely offering hospitality. John was surprised but masked it. He took his omega's arm and led him to the long table, seating him at the head and himself off to the the right. Everyone else just crowded around and sat wherever they arrived. Mycroft and Greg took the far end of the table, opting to keep their chairs side by side.

It was a long day. John kept the conversation friendly and warm, not too probing but still getting their stories out of them without a lot of detail. Titania had been with Vuk the longest. The rest had been taken in only the last decade. They wouldn't explain further and John refused to let anyone press them. As a veteran he had not responded well to being pressured after he was invalided back to England. These wolves had issues to resolve inside themselves before they were willing to share so John would wait until they were ready. Siofra and Ilva both used to be aristocrats in their homelands but both had been werewolves for nearly two hundred years. Titania was the youngest at only a little over one hundred and had grown up with the werewolf tribes. All of them had been tied to Vuk for reasons they refused to divulge. All of them had begged Vuk to give them a child to send back to their families, a favor that Vuk was more than willing to grant provided they also began to produce babies for him after their first born were safely shipped away.

“What was the deal with the baby obsession. Vuk wanted to breed Sherlock.” Greg asked. Once again all five wolves retreated into themselves, becoming still and silent. Were they afraid of Greg? Was it because he was an alpha? John leaned in and repeated the question.

“Someone explained the concept of descent to Vuk when he was very young. He wanted to begin a bloodline for himself so he could see his family grow through the centuries. Vuk was a terror and made himself Khagan by force. He wanted to build an empire based on himself. He wanted to be like The First Family with all werewolves trying to prove how many different ways they were attached to Vuk. You can't change your true born but you can change your grandchildren.” explained Titania carefully. Sherlock actually gasped, his eyes going unfocused just as Mycroft's did as well. They were looking at the tangled mass of Mother's memories.

“Look Mycroft. If you color it like this and then hold it like this. Look. Titania is absolutely correct.” Both men were teasing information out of the mass, filtering it in different ways until they could understand it. Sherlock and Mycroft's bodies arched as they suddenly were caught in a wave of understanding. Finally Sherlock said, “It changes so much but it doesn't solve the problem.”

Mycroft's voice was soft and thoughtful. “I don't want to lose my children little brother. The work continues.” Sherlock nodded and both of them went back to considering the new information they had accessed. The new wolves gaped at the brothers, clearly not understanding the situation.

Refreshments were brought in and out. Rest breaks were taken. Sherlock disappeared with Ethan at one point and John easily tracked them both down outside the facility sneaking cigarettes they had found somewhere. “Sherlock!” grouched John. Ethan looked horrified and dropped his cigarette like it was a smoking gun before ducking behind Sherlock to hide. Sherlock took an extra long drag of his before he let it fall to the ground.

“It's just one John. It's been ages and Ethan needed a break. Please???” Sherlock was completely unfair because he cuddled up to John and kissed him sweetly, the tobacco on this breath doing nothing to repulse John. Sherlock snuggled closer knowing full well he was being manipulative but also knowing full well that John would let him get away with it. John did but he did scold Sherlock mildly.

“Fine. I don't want you two sneaking out here every half hour though! It reeks.” That's all John could say. Tobacco wouldn't hurt Sherlock, not anymore. John had mostly made him quit because it did smell and Sherlock gained nothing from it. He liked the act of smoking though and it was obviously going to be a bonding point between the two men, especially since John's reaction had Ethan smiling shyly from behind Sherlock, his smoky gray eyes beginning to crinkle at the corners. That Sherlock was even attempting to befriend someone astounded John so much that he was inclined to never scold them about cigarettes again. That Ethan had warmed up to Sherlock of all people, well, John didn't quite know what to think about that. He reached into Sherlock's mind.

“Ethan is brilliant John. He was terribly afraid of you though, of everyone. Vuk was savage with both boys. He was in medical school when he was changed by his maker and taken away. He's only been a werewolf for ten years. Ethan was changed shortly before Vuk took him. With training he could be our lab assistant. So much better than some outsider.” Sherlock must have seen a lot of potential in the young wolf to take such an interest. John pretended to huff and complain. He theatrically pulled out the cigarette packet from Sherlock's pocket, handed them one each and made them promise not to take forever with it before rejoining them. Ethan's smile was a little bigger but he didn't come out from behind Sherlock. “I like him John. Like a brother who isn't Mycroft. I want to train him.”

John agreed with Sherlock's silent request and felt a surge of happiness radiate away from his omega. Now John smiled when he heard their lighter spark and one man huff contentedly on his fresh smoke. Leaving the two of them to be naughty together John returned to the conference room where everyone else was waiting.

Mycroft and Titania had hit it off, if you could call it that. They were sitting stiffly next to one another exchanging politely worded comments about werewolf culture. Greg was chatting up the omegas and teasing Patrick who seemed astonished that an alpha was joshing him. John went to the refreshment table and picked up a tray of sandwiches, intending on handing them around before they dried out.

Patrick jumped to his feet, his chair almost crashing behind him. He was already two paces towards John before he stopped himself. All the wolves were pale and shocked looking. Patrick took one more wobbly step towards John. “Khagan. Allow me to assist.” Patrick sounded frightened and smelled terrified all over again. The women's eyes were fixed on John's hands holding the tray. John felt a little weird and the tray was getting heavy.

“Sure. I guess my shoulder isn't what it used to be.” Patrick rushed over, seeming very relieved as he took the tray from John. He quickly served everyone and came back around to refresh everyone's drinks while John sat himself back down. While the others ate their sandwiches Sherlock and Ethan came back in. Sherlock took in John's face and opened himself to his alpha. “What happened.”

“I don't know. I was going to bring the sandwiches around and all the new wolves almost lost it. Patrick was across the room and ready to take the tray from me. He was terrified Sherlock.” Their thoughts flickered back and forth. John was getting upset. He didn't know the details but he was pretty sure Vuk's brutality was the cause of all the fearful reactions.

When the last crumb was gone and everyone had time to sip their drinks John stood up. Looking everyone over he began to speak clearly but gently. “I've enjoyed today. I always like meeting new people and I think we've made a small start on getting to know one another. However it's clear to me that you don't know me nearly well enough. I'm John Watson. I am a doctor, I used to be a Captain in the army. Sherlock is a consulting detective. We solve crimes for a living or at least we used to. Sherlock and I became wolves only a little over two years ago. We were changed by a woman who called herself Mother.”

John's speech was intended to relax and sooth his new pack-mates. Instead they were electrified and stunned. Titania actually stood up and stared over at John, her face pale and colorless. “Your maker is Mother? The First Daughter made you? Where is she!”

“Wait. What? She died shortly after she infected Sherlock. We met her only once. She was The First Daughter? Sherlock how did we not know that?” Sherlock looked put out.

“Well I know it now John. The title is there but it made no sense. She didn't think of herself like that. The sensation of being someone's child is there but shouldn't everyone except orphans feel that?” He was petulant for having missed an important piece of information. “Is the fact that our maker was known to you as The First Daughter important?”

“Important Khan? It is incredibly important. No wonder you were able to conquer Vuk so easily Khagan! Mother was one of the oldest werewolves known. All bloodlines stem from the First Family. Her bloodline was the strongest, the cleverest. She was always careful choosing who she turned. All tribes try to prove how many ways they are connected to her. My family is honored to have thirty five lines of decent from Mother. Most tribes are connected by forty or more with small scattered wolves with less. Vuk was rumored to have merely five. You Khagan. You have only one. She made you directly. Old is best and she was the oldest.”

John couldn't stop the wolves from bowing to all of them now. All of them smelled proud and in a strange way, content. Titania's face was flushed when she raised her head. “Khagan. You are the most powerful wolf I have ever encountered. You, your mate and your pack. All of you are strong. You will do well during the Tour.”

“The tour?” John just went from being startled to being puzzled. Briefly he wondered if that's how it was going to be for the rest of his life, just one long chain of events that made John's head spin.

“You have to tour Vuk to the tribes. He must be displayed. Replacing a king is not like defeating an average wolf in battle. You did not kill Vuk. He lives. He must be shown as conquered. We must go back to the tribes and show them Vuk and allow them to meet this pack. Much has changed.” Titania spoke firmly. Her tone suggested that her statement was an absolute. It was something that was going to happen.

“Titania you are pregnant. All the women are pregnant. You can't travel from one place to another for who knows how long! Sherlock needs to observe you. He has things to accomplish and he needs to do them here. Believe me when I tell you making him leave his experiments behind is not the answer to world peace! He will drive you around the bend. Let them come to me instead.” John wasn't about to go haring around the planet dragging an entire werewolf entourage made up of pregnant women and Sherlock. Titania's mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You would allow other tribes on your lands?” She sounded stunned, as if this idea had never been offered before. How else did people visit or travel? John looked down at her and her eyes dropped to the floor.

“Of course. Why wouldn't I? I don't own England. I don't even own Baskerville. I think Mycroft does.” John didn't even know how he was going to manage to bring in strangers from around the globe to pop by for a cuppa before having a good look at Vuk in his disgrace. He was beginning to feel anxious when Mycroft looked at Titania.

“Come my dear. We must speak. We'll decide how to contact those necessary and begin arrangements immediately.” Thank god for Mycroft. John heaved a sigh inside his head as Mycroft took over. Then John realized that in a weird way Mycroft was now John's Anthea. John was equally disturbed and relieved. He could trust Mycroft to know the best way to handle all international situations however he was Mycroft. He was incapable of doing anything without including a healthy dose of subterfuge. John decided he would simply apply pressure to Greg until Mycroft broke if things got too much. Sending Greg home with all of John's Dr Who dvds should do the trick. That show drove Mycroft spare which was probably the only reason Sherlock watched them as avidly as he did. John decided to save that kill move for another time.

Titania and Mycroft settled themselves at the far end of the room, Mycroft's tablet in his elegant hands. Deciding that was enough oversight on his part John turned his attention to the remaining wolves. Sherlock and Ethan were sitting next to one another but Siofra, Ilva and Patrick looked timid once again. Greg smiled at them. “So what do you do for fun of an evening?” he asked genially.

Just an innocent question but such a reaction. All four remaining wolves tensed and looked ready to flee. Their fear soared upward until John wanted to howl in despair for them. Patrick looked like he wanted to get sick and nearly bolted when John got up to check on him. “Patrick. What's wrong. Did Greg say something wrong?”

Patrick stood there silent, eyes wide and began to tremble. His pupils were black with fear and he wasn't seeing John in front of him. John recognized the symptoms. Patrick was about to have a full blown panic attack. Instinctively John stepped forward and put his hand on Patrick's neck and the man calmed instantly. “Patrick you are okay. You're here with all of us and we're all safe. I'll keep you safe. You're safe. Nod if you understand me.”

Patrick nodded. He blink slowly and took a shuddering breath. “I'm sorry Khagan. I apologize for my weakness.” John checked Patrick's pulse, it was fast but steady. He was calming. John's presence was soothing him so John continued to project calm gentle thoughts until Patrick calmed completely.

“Do you feel up to explaining what just happened?” Patrick blanched but shook his head. John just nodded gently. “Whenever you're ready you can talk to whichever one of us you feel most comfortable with. We want to help you.” Patrick nodded and sat himself down once again. Siofra reached over and patted his hand soothingly and he darted a quick smile her way. Ethan was hiding behind Sherlock again but after Patrick settled down he came back out and took his seat again.

Greg smiled all around, still trying to get them to relax a bit. “We like to watch movies to relax sometimes. Would you like to watch a movie tonight? Or do you have something else you might like to do?” he smiled encouragingly, looking over everyone kindly.

Ilva looked shy. “If I can get some material I can make dresses. I feel strange in these clothes.” She and the other women were all wearing maternity slacks to go with their stylish blouses. Greg looked them all over.

“You don't need to make your own clothes unless you really want to. I don't mind taking pretty girls shopping.” Even Titania shrieked happily and abandoned Mycroft at the promise of new clothes. “Come on Myc, let's take them to town tomorrow. We can get them something nice to wear.”

John leaned back into his chair, well pleased. Mycroft merely took out his phone and began organizing the outing calmly. John laughed to himself when he thought of Anthea. He sent Sherlock a quick thought about it and saw his omega smile. Ethan was wiggling around in his chair next to Ilva and both of them were discussing fabrics and designs. John suddenly realized that Ethan was probably gay, not that that mattered to werewolves. Still, he had been human for a while and during his previous life John was pretty sure that Ethan was gay.

Now John looked at Sherlock and back at Ethan. Did Ethan have a crush on Sherlock? John didn't like the feeling that grew almost instantly inside him. Jealousy. He sent a thought to Sherlock, letting him know his thoughts. Sherlock was amused and reassuring. “He had an older brother who was my age, that's all. He feels comfortable around me because of that.” John felt chagrined that he'd allowed jealousy to take root for even a second. Still, Sherlock was so beautiful and so talented John couldn't expect to go through their entire lives without someone eventually falling in love with him as well. Sherlock's thought's continued to be amused and he winked at John from his seat. John grinned back.

Mycroft organized a relaxed evening as well. They appropriated another part of Baskerville and set up a large screen TV. There was a huge compliment of movies available in the facility library. Everyone lived and worked here, their jobs too secret to allow everyone to have a normal outside life. The wolves weren't interested in going out. They pawed through the movies like children, bickering and arguing over what to watch before settling on a modern action movie where the hero was a woman. All of them hooted and shouted at the screen, screaming where appropriate and laughing. John felt very good about everything when he saw his new family getting along and enjoying themselves. Sherlock was cuddled tight to John's side, his head draped onto John's good shoulder.

Greg was having a great time. He and Ilva were sitting near one another and she had warmed up enough to poke him in the leg with a finger whenever something made her laugh. Mycroft smiled tolerantly at her and she seemed to actually like both of them. Greg kept teasing all the new wolves and eventually they realized that Greg was full of jokes and good humor. When they caught him stealing a kiss from Mycroft, his face so full of love and devotion all of them decided that maybe Greg wasn't so bad. By the time the evening had come to a close everyone was relaxed and content. John was pleased.

The next morning began in a whirlwind of activity. Mycroft had actually arranged for a helicopter to bring them back and forth to London in one big group. Two large town cars later and all of them arrived at the shops. Mycroft and Greg completely won the new wolves over as they took them on an epic shopping spree, Mycroft's credit card at the ready. Greg teased him about it but Mycroft answered very seriously, “John has placed us in a powerful position. Appearance means a great deal. When we begin to receive our visiting werewolf kin then they must see us in a way that is to our advantage.”

John listened to Mycroft carefully and Sherlock squeezed his hand. The clothing that Mycroft had approved was rich in appearance but still simple and elegant. Ethan and Patrick were fitted for new suits and provided with a large selection of casual wear. The women were allowed to choose styles of dress they were comfortable with before Mycroft commissioned new wardrobes for them as well. He even managed to convince Greg to finally be fitted for a properly bespoke suit instead of the off-the-rack ones he used to favor. “You are not a DI anymore Gregory. You can dress appropriately now.”

John unbent enough to allow Sherlock to choose one beautiful jumper for him. He was wearing the kitten sweater as threatened and Sherlock kept picking at it as if he wished he could rip it off and throw it away. He probably did. Mycroft looked at John and seemed to mull over his words before speaking. “John you need to get a new wardrobe as well. You are going to be our king, not our rugby coach.”

“Hey I was good at rugby. Why should I ponce around in clothes I don't like just to look like something I'm not? Vuk ran around in torn jeans and half a shirt. What's wrong with my slacks and jumpers?” At this comment Mycroft discretely inclined his head. Sherlock and John stepped closer while Greg moved the other werewolves away to look at items further down the row.

“Do you recall what Vuk's goal was? Empire building. That's what we are doing John. We're building an empire. We have a lot of assets on our side but there's no point in wasting them just because they're plentiful. You are a figurehead now. You dictate how others perceive us. When we begin to meet the others we must be in a position of power from the very beginning, even if it's just wearing a better cut of suit or serving a higher quality of wine. Impressions John. We are making impressions that will last through the centuries. Sherlock and I have a lot of very questionable work to do and we can't be distracted by tribal warfare because some idiot somewhere thinks he can take down the tiny man in a kitten jumper.” John flushed because Mycroft was right. John wasn't imposing. He rarely lost his temper anymore. John didn't relish the idea of having to fight challenge after challenge because he looked like an easy target.

“I like this jumper.” he said weakly. He couldn't help but recall his first impression of Mycroft. He'd been disturbed that a clearly powerful person was aware of him, Mycroft's fine suit and emotionless face making John automatically on edge.

“The kitten jumper lovely. Wear it at home all you want. When we meet the visitors it would be very helpful if you could be wearing something less fluffy.” Sherlock choked back a laugh as John caved less than gracefully. Half an hour later John found himself being thoroughly measured while Sherlock picked through fabrics and made a large sounding order. “Don't worry John, despite his personal choices Sherlock has excellent taste.”

“Not everyone needs to look constipated Mycroft. My clothing reflects my character.” snipped Sherlock.

“Yes it does. It screams that you are a clingy drama queen who enjoys his rainbow connection. You do realize little brother that you are supposed to be able to breath once you've gotten into your clothes? If you like to be bound so much may I suggest corsets. I know someone who can custom make them for you.” Mycroft and Sherlock were at it knife and fork.

“Your corset does nothing to hide that jelly belly Mycroft. We should probably begin taking you for long walks at night. Your pudginess is getting noticeable.” Mycroft's hands flew to his waist. He wasn't wearing a corset but he was sensitive about his weight and now Greg was glaring at Sherlock. John stepped it.

“Stop it. You're both pretty. Greg take Mycroft and go see the others. Sherlock?” Sherlock rolled his eyes but came closer to John as Greg led his lover away. “Sherlock I know you like picking on your brother and he did kind of start this but personal attacks don't help anyone. I personally love the way you dress, Mycroft is just envious. Try to minimize the damage you do to him and I promise to let you dress me any way you want.”

“Very well John. I'll try to stop but you have to admit he makes a very large target.” John took Sherlock's hand with a small laugh and let Sherlock lead him back to the fitting area. The rest of the day went by swiftly and after a large late lunch John and Sherlock went back to 221B to gather some personal items and to visit with Mrs. Hudson. She was surprised to see them back from their honeymoon but Sherlock smoothed the way. “I found a travel package. John and I are going to tour around. We'll be gone for ages. I need to bring my violin with me.”

She fussed and made them stay for tea. Hugging her goodbye the men went upstairs and packed up the few things they wanted with them at their new residence at Baskerville. It felt strange, like they were saying goodbye forever. “We're coming back here soon Sherlock. We'll take regular breaks and come stay at Baker Street.”

Sherlock nodded but didn't speak. Baker Street had been his haven for so long. The work at Baskerville would take years and both of them knew that time at the flat was going to be a precious and rare treat. With a long series of what had to be considered diplomatic visits coming up the men also knew that all their time was going to be taken up.

John pulled Sherlock close to him. He wrapped his arms around his omega and felt Sherlock tremble. “It's going to be fine Sherlock. We're together aren't we? We'll be doing important things, things that need to be done. It doesn't matter where we are.” Sherlock's face was buried in John's neck now and he nodded.

“I know John.” Sherlock kissed John hard, a small tear trickling down. He kissed John hard again, his hands tugging and demanding until John followed his lover back to their bedroom. They dropped their clothes on the floor carelessly and tumbled to the blankets. John allowed himself to be pushed onto his back as Sherlock climbed on top of him. With a minimum of preparation and the lucky find of a remaining packet of lube Sherlock was carefully sliding himself onto John. “Make it fast John. Everyone's waiting.”

Fast it was. John braced his feet and Sherlock splayed his hands out over John's chest. They began to move together, slowly at first but soon John's body was moving quick and hard in time with Sherlock. Both of them were almost silent, the squeak of their bed nearly the only sound in the room apart from their panting breaths. John took Sherlock in hand and began to stroke him smoothly. Sherlock's head fell back and with a soft groan he began to orgasm, his seed spilling over John's fist. John let Sherlock ride out his release before allowing himself to thrust raggedly into his lover, emptying himself deep inside the omega.

They rested together for a few minutes before getting up quietly and cleaning themselves. John held Sherlock for a few minutes more before they re-dressed. Looking over their shoulders at the flat before they locked the door John picked up their bags and they left to rejoin their pack.

 

Kris Holden-Ried

 

Tom Hiddelston

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the omegas are kind of generically beautiful, I'll admit it. However the betas are based on two actors I think are pretty damn fine. Ethan has materialized because of the very hot, very Canadian Kris Holden-Ried. Patrick can be drooled over because he's totally played LIVE in my head by none other than Tom Hiddleston. Yay for my head! It's always an all star cast.
> 
> Oh - I don't own any of these men. I don't have rights to them either. I want to. I don't. Try to avoid suing me over these images.


	5. Baskerville

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is passing and the new pack is getting to know the London wolves. It's a whole new situation for everyone and theres a lot of changes.

Nearly a whole month had gone by and it was nearly time for the full moon again. Life at Baskerville had been an adjustment but things were working out. Sherlock adapted slowly, getting used to being in the facility full time instead of being back in London doing whatever he felt like. With diligence he set regular working hours and breaks. He used John as a sounding board for his scientific musings and often he and his alpha would stay up until the early morning hours just talking about their new work.

The tour of the facility was undertaken by the entire pack at the same time during their first week together. John didn't want them to feel like their opinions weren't important. Their new members were gun-shy and easily startled. They had a very difficult time adjusting to John's gentle ways and calm patience. The Holmes brothers surprisingly eased the way by snapping orders thoughtlessly. When John tolerated their un-omega-like behavior the pack began to relax a bit. John wasn't Vuk and this was a concept they needed to accept on their own time. The work was important and they all would have to be involved eventually. What Sherlock and Mycroft were attempting was for the good of all lycans. 

They pushed through room after room filled with strange experiments and pale looking people all working busily. Clearly once you worked at Baskerville seeing the light of day became unimportant. The facility was huge since it contained housing for the scientists and others. Greg whistled when the pack went through a large room filled with screens of information and banks of strange instrumentation that beeped and flickered intriguing lights. “It's like being in one of those sci-fi movies!” Greg exclaimed.

Every laughed but agreed. This facility was state of the art and the art had been all technological. If the doors began to slide open on their own and say hello in a happy and satisfied voice as they passed John wouldn't have been surprised. After they had seen all the pack retired to the conference room that had been claimed by them as their communal meeting place.

Mycroft had explained the goal, to produce werewolves from birth. The omegas wept as they realized their children would not be able to be given this gift. They would be born human and stay that way. Mycroft and Sherlock were years away from figuring out the solution. Bravely each expectant mother offered their bodies to be part of the research. Sherlock promised they would do everything in their power to not harm the children or the women. He just wanted to observe. Sherlock needed a base set of data before he could even begin to explore his possible options. Tearfully they agreed.

The pregnant omega's due dates were very close to one another, Vuk having bred them one month after the other beginning with Titania. She was unafraid of the pregnancy and labor but worried constantly about the character of her unborn child. Had Titania known freedom was so close at hand she never would have agreed to bear Vuk's child. Greg had just shrugged it off. “You'll be as good a mum as you can and after that it will be up to the kid to decide what to do with what they got. Lots of people are nothing like their parents. Look at Sherlock and Mycroft. Their parents look like they should have had John and not them.”

Well that was true. Mummy and Papa Holmes were as comfortable as a pair of old slippers, decades into their lives together as a happily wed couple of oldsters. Mummy was the brilliant one but you'd never know it by how long she could go on about a missing pair of spectacles or how she and her husband both dressed like they were going to a rumble sale. Everyone looked at John who was dressed in a much better grade of jumper and a fitted pair of slacks.

“My family will be raising my child. I will have no influence on his development.” Titania stated sadly. Greg looked at her. Her small head was bowed. Today she had her long dark hair fixed into a large smooth knot at the nape of her neck. She wore dark red frequently, the warm shade complimenting the color of her caramel skin.

“Is that what you want or is that what has to happen no matter what?” He asked her seriously. She looked startled. Titania thought for a moment and then spoke slowly.

“It is an agreement made by Vuk to my family. I had no say in its making apart from the request itself. I would prefer to raise my child, of course. To change the agreement you must speak to my maker.” Greg nodded and looked over at John. John looked over at Mycroft who simply picked up his mobile to begin making arrangements to locate and bring Titania's maker to Baskerville.

Sherlock organized training to begin for Ethan. Now that he was comfortable with his Khagan and Khan the young wolf had blossomed into a mirthful and startling intelligent young man. He spent long hours in the labs helping Sherlock with his experiments and asking questions. He was sharp, attentive, had an excellent memory and was intelligent enough to keep Sherlock happy with regular compliments and appropriately amazed sounds.

Patrick enjoyed spending time with the pregnant omegas, caring for them and keeping them amused. With a little thought Mycroft arranged midwife training for him and Patrick was delighted. Shyly he tentatively asked if he could receive advanced nursing training as well and Mycroft agreed. Now Patrick assisted John during his daily check-ups of the omegas and their babies.

The women were also interested in learning more. John had to encourage them extensively before they slowly opened up. Eventually what changed their mind was watching John rave over Sherlock after a particularly brilliant line of thinking. John's sincere exclamations of, “Brilliant!” and “Amazing!” whenever Sherlock had impressed him had shown the new pack members how their alpha appreciated intelligence. After several discussions it turned out that Ilva was very interesting in astrophysics, an area she'd had no chance to indulge. A few clicks on her laptop and Sherlock introduced her to his associates at CERN, the only fans he'd ever had on his personal website “The Science of Deduction” now finally taken down, almost hitless. Since she was very pretty most of the doctors she worked with online were only too happy to begin coaching her in basic maths, planning to instruct her until she was able to interact with their work in a meaningful way. Ilva was overjoyed.

Siofra enjoyed the law. She and Greg spent many hours going over English law and she simply ate it up. Greg's view of the law was based on his interactions with criminals, John threw in what he remembered about military law, Sherlock had to add what he knew about loopholes in law since he utilized them so much and Mycroft rounded it all off with a long boring lecture on international law. Only Siofra paid attention. As part of the discussions Greg and Siofra began a theoretical exercise and drafted a set of werewolf laws based on what the entire group knew of the ancient rules and traditions. They adjusted everything to suit their own desires, laughing and teasing one another as they made wild arguments in favor or against interpretations. Mycroft showed her how to couch each law in appropriate phrasing and Siofra enjoyed the exercise greatly. 

Titania had become Mycroft's shadow, both of them educating the other about cultural protocols and political systems. She was canny, brave and had no problem tolerating Mycroft's natural coldness. She was almost reverent toward John and spoke to Sherlock as if she were addressing a deity.

The entirely unloved Vuk rotted in his containment cell. He ate and he slept. Sometimes he raged as he tried to break out of his cell but the reinforced walls were more than strong enough to contain his temper. They had tried to provide him with small entertainments but he ripped the books apart, smashed the laptop and when he tried to stab Greg with a shard of tv screen they took everything away and just stuck a radio in the hallway for him to listen to. He started off being deliberately filthy, messing in his room and ripping his clothes deliberately to shreds. Greg had taken one look at his behavior, had Vuk removed from his cell, placed in a different one with a drain in the floor and proceeded to have him hosed down. After he was washed Greg had him restrained and shaved from head to foot. When a highly indignant and very bald Vuk was returned to his freshly cleaned cell he found himself deprived of clothes entirely. Greg promised to keep Vuk like a bad dog unless he behaved himself. Vuk reluctantly gave in and now wore his plain pajamas without tearing them and began using the toilet properly once more. When he continued to behave he was given a new TV which he watched quietly.

Vuk was terrified of Sherlock. When Vuk heard Sherlock's voice the huge wolf would pale and shrink back into the room as if Sherlock were going to fling the steel door open and destroy him. Sherlock was puzzled. One day during lunch he mentioned the reaction to Greg. Titania lay her fork down and Mycroft looked down at her. At his nod Titania explained. “Khagan is king but you Khan, you are leader here. Vuk's existence depends on your whim. He abused you, insulted you. It's within your rights to claw his heart right out of his chest if you choose and eat it in front of him. You can murder his children, take his possessions and scatter his bones to the winds before they turn to dust. Every cruelty he's every inflicted on another you can do to him. He's waiting for it. You are all powerful Khan. The most powerful omega anywhere. We are all at your mercy.”

That pleased Sherlock an indecent amount. His smile was downright evil and John rolled his eyes. Sherlock hadn't forgotten the humiliation of being strung up, exposed and fingered. “Don't make that face John. I'm not about to begin killing children and I doubt that Vuk owns anything I'd want. I barely eat normal food never mind warm dripping hearts so I think he's safe that way.”

It was all the other ways Vuk wasn't safe from Sherlock that concerned John. Still, the werewolf had centuries of deliberate horrors to answer for and Sherlock could be very creative. John decided that the mad dog deserved whatever Sherlock did to him and that he would only step in if it looked like Sherlock was going to harm himself more than Vuk. John was a little surprised to find this decision easy to make and felt no lingering guilt over it.

Over the weeks the conversation turned again and again to the topic that caught them all. How to save the children. Though no one could keep up with Mycroft and Sherlock everyone managed to learn enough to follow roughly along with their theories. The project was huge now, the entire facility had in one way or other put aside all other considerations to work on different facets of the issue. “We need to redesign ourselves essentially. We need to make better werewolves, smarter. Much study is needed first. We have no data sets to work from, we must gather as much werewolf information as possible before we can do anything conclusive.” Sherlock had finally admitted that he was no where near a solution. He still had time before his first fertile heat and indeed centuries after that to bear as many children as he wanted yet Sherlock was fixed on this idea now and would not be shifted.

The full moon was only a day away and Anthea had returned to take charge of the facility before the mating cycle took them. Sherlock and Ethan were working in the lab examining equipment they were re-purposing. Sherlock was having a great time. Half the instrumentation came with very serious warnings about possible death and/or mutilation if misused. He couldn't wait. Sherlock entertained himself by quizzing Ethan about everything. “Why don't you shift at the full moon. At its height neither John nor I can become men again. We stay wolves.”

Ethan shrugged. He didn't seem to mind it when Sherlock began to interrogate him. He answered right away, “I'm a beta. I don't go into heat. I'm not fertile with an omega though I could get a human girl pregnant. The moon doesn't affect me the same way it does alphas and omegas. I can become a wolf anytime I want and be a person again too. After my first shift I didn't change unless Vuk ordered it. I'm not affected by your pheromones either. I guess I was born to be in the friend zone with the whole world. I don't mind.”

“My pheromones don't affect you? Really?” that intrigued Sherlock. Why didn't they bother betas. What was the purpose of that non-reaction. What was a friend-zone? What would happen to John when Sherlock finally became pregnant and wouldn't shift until after he birthed. Would John still need to shift at the light of the moon? Sherlock imagined John's wolfy body bathed in moonlight. His temperature spiked. Sherlock felt the need to remove his lab coat. It was very warm in here all of a sudden. Sherlock began unbuttoning his shirt.

Ethan sniffed loudly, looked over at Sherlock then pulled out his mobile to text John, “Yes and good thing too. You've just silvered.” Sherlock and Ethan ran all the way back to Sherlock's suite, Ethan guiding the lust hazed Sherlock as best he could. John met them at the door and Ethan shoved them both inside as Sherlock began to claw his clothes off. The young wolf laughed happily before wishing them well and leaving them in peace.

Sherlock couldn't get his clothes off fast enough for John. They'd never missed the start of a heat before. Now John and Sherlock were busy every single day. They had gotten used to spending the morning attending their various projects and spending the afternoon working together or with the rest of the pack. John spent a fleeting second berating himself over his lack of attention but Sherlock was very demanding and all such thoughts simply disappeared.

The sweet scent of the omega made the air thick and John's thoughts hazy. All he wanted to do was dive into that tight body and ride until he couldn't move anymore. Dropping everything wherever they landed John coated his already hard cock with lube and pinned Sherlock to the bed. Taking only a second to line himself up John drove himself deep and fast into his husband. John savagely bit Sherlock's neck. The deep appreciative moan was repeated when John ran his tongue over the freely running blood until the wound sealed shut on it's own.

John bit Sherlock's shoulder next and his omega bucked hard, “God yes!” he moaned as John once again ran his tongue over the wound. John's hips thrust steadily, the hot receptive flesh too irresistible to the alpha. The rougher John was the louder Sherlock cried for more. Keeping his hips thrusting John sat back so he could rake his nails down Sherlock's back. Quickly going back he dragged his nails down a second time, the technique perfected after all this time. The long reddish rents lingered and Sherlock writhed beneath him in ecstasy.

John took Sherlock's shoulders in hand, clenched his thighs and rolled them both over. Sherlock tucked his heels to John's sides and began to ride himself up and down at will. John loved Sherlock like this. The younger man was only interested in chasing his orgasm. His mind was entirely shut down and his body ruled everything. Sherlock was an intensely sensual lover, his body as expressive in love as his mind was brilliant at everything else. The way he twisted and pushed made Sherlock's gorgeous behind bounce just enough that John could barely keep his eyes off of it. A man shouldn't be able to move like that but look at Sherlock go!

Suddenly Sherlock pulled away and deliberately shifted. His silver eyes stared challengingly at John. A heartbeat later John was mounting his husband, his claws digging into Sherlock's fur. Soon John felt the knot at the base of his penis begin to swell and harden. Sherlock began to ride with increased wantonness, rolling his hips suggestively, teasing John by brushing against his knot but refusing to accept it. John let him play for a while, loving the push and pull of their bodies but soon their wild urges could be put off no longer. Reaching up John gripped Sherlock's shoulders with his paws, this time using the leverage to push Sherlock harder onto his cock as he thrust furiously forward with his hips. A fleeting moment of resistance and then John's knot popped securely into Sherlock's ass, locking them tight together.

Sherlock's emitted a long and very loud howl. He resisted the knot, tried to pull away but it was fruitless. Then Sherlock began to twist and bounce just the tiniest bit and John could not stop himself from delivering jets of sperm deep into his lover. Sherlock was crying out raggedly. John felt Sherlock clench once again as the omega spent himself onto the bedding. Panting harshly Sherlock hung his head down and onto the pillow. John's orgasm linger, groan after groan heralded each peak. Sherlock shuddered more than once as John compulsively thrust deeper. The combination of the knot along with the direct hits to his prostate had Sherlock dry orgasming in only minutes.

A long time later John's knot softened enough to release them both. Sherlock shifted back with a satisfied sigh and snuggled up to a wearily smiling John. “Do you think we'll ever grow tired of that?” asked Sherlock lazily.

John shrugged easily, “I can't see how. Even if we did the exact same thing for the next few centuries it's still going to be the most mind blowing sex I've ever had.” He doubted that Sherlock would allow their sex life to grow stagnant. He had his little ways and over time more and more subtle kinks worked their way into their bedroom. Sherlock was a brilliant man after all, his interests in bed were as broad as they were outside of it. John decided this was a good time to rehydrate and try to grab a bite of food. Kissing Sherlock soundly he coaxed his omega out of bed and into the kitchen. They had three days to get through and they were just getting started.

In another part of the compound muffled cries echoed down an empty hallway. The door to Greg and Mycroft's suite wasn't completely closed, the heat overtaking their senses before they could worry about insignificant things like proper privacy. Anthea strode bravely down the hallway as soon as she noticed the aberration on the hallway camera. She wasn't prepared to hear her old boss shouting for his husband to fuck him harder or to hear the savage growls or the distinctive sound of flesh on flesh pounding roughly. She kept striding briskly, reaching for the doorknob quickly and tugging it shut. Instantly the howls and cries disappeared and Anthea sighed in relief. Adjusting her coat she strode back to the control room to keep an eye on everything.

Inside the suite Greg had Mycroft bent over the arm of the couch, leg cocked to the side so Greg could take him deeper. He was dimly aware of the door, of Anthea's scent but dismissed her as a non-threat. When the door clicked shut Greg just kept fucking Mycroft savagely. He loved Mycroft's heats. Greg always had a taste for sex that was unrestrained and energetic. Having sex with Mycroft was always good but when they blended together during their heat it became something otherworldly. Greg loved Mycroft's body. The slender man's generous behind and soft stomach never failed to make Greg hungry to touch. Mycroft had always smelled so good to Greg but during the heat he now found he could separate each and every part of that complex smell. It drove him wilder than ever and somehow he found the resources to fuck his husband even harder.

Greg loved how Mycroft could take him, how even though the soft seeming bureaucrat appeared delicate, sometimes fragile, he could actually withstand a great deal of physical interaction. Greg never had to be afraid of the times passion overtook him and he fucked with blind lust, disregarding the limits of human flesh. Now he didn't hold back a scrap. Even if he did hurt Mycroft he healed so fast he often would be completely alright before they'd even finished having sex. Greg indulged himself violently, taking Mycroft as hard as he felt like. The sofa was beginning to shift ever so slightly away from Greg.

Greg pulled out suddenly, leaving a complaining Mycroft still hanging over the edge of the sofa. “Bed. Right the fuck now.” Greg yanked Mycroft upright and slapped his ass hard. Mycroft scampered and Greg chased after him. As soon as the bedroom door slammed Greg pushed Mycroft down onto the bed face first. Pausing only long enough to recoat himself with lube Greg straddled Mycroft's thighs and shoved himself deep.

He kept Mycroft's legs together, riding his lover shallowly, pushing his cock through the generous cheeks of Mycroft's plump behind. The softness combined with the tightness of Mycroft's entrance had Greg groaning and beginning to thrust harder. It wasn't enough. Rudely Greg pulled out again, this time yanking Mycroft's hips high into the air. Standing over him Greg positioned his cock carefully and pushed downward into his lover's body. Mycroft groaned deeply as Greg sank down completely. Mycroft was so open like this. Greg set his feet and spread his hands on Mycroft's ass, his hips driving downward harshly.

The room filled with Mycroft's pheromones until Greg was dizzy from it. He was dazed with the scent of his mate, the urge to fuck taking precedence of everything else. Greg twisted his hips hard as he sank himself in, causing Mycroft to shout painfully before he moaned. Greg's cock felt hard. He wanted to come. It was becoming to hard to resist. He pulled out.

Greg lay back and Mycroft scrambled to straddle his cock before sinking himself back down again. Greg loved Mycroft when he was like this. His patrician's face was twisted with lust and his carefully controlled mannerisms were completely missing as he began to swear and grind himself down onto his husband. “Fucking Christ! Gregory! Shit...right there. Harder! Fuck me harder!” Greg grinned and complied.

Mycroft's normally carefully combed hair was wild and curled up over his forehead. For a brief instant Greg could see Mycroft's resemblance to his brother. He preferred Mycroft by far. Sherlock was beautiful but Mycroft was just so wicked. Just as this thought crossed his mind Mycroft's hand covered his and tugged it upward. Greg closed his fingers around Mycroft's neck and began to squeeze. Mycroft's gasps became breathy and strained but he didn't slow, didn't pause. If anything he moved faster. The flush on his cheek had crept down his neck and stained his upper chest. His perfect creamy skin gleamed with sweat and beads of it were beginning to flow down his face.

Suddenly Mycroft's eyes flew open, silver and glowing. “Gregory!” he gasped. Dropping the hand on him Mycroft began to come. Greg held his hips down, forcing Mycroft to ride him shallowly. Greg felt the warm stripes of come splash onto his belly and felt Mycroft's ass flutter and tighten convulsively around him but he managed to hold back. Mycroft moaned for a minute more, holding himself still until his breathing evened out. 

Greg waited for it. As soon as Mycroft drew his first unlabored breath his body began to move again. Hunched over Greg Mycroft drove his ass down fast and hard. He stretched his long upper body out, presenting the elegant column of his long neck. Greg waited until he felt Mycroft's cock harden once more before he licked his palm, reached down and began to stroke. It was going to be close. Greg was at his limit now. He began to match Mycroft's thrusts with his own, his feet planted firmly on the bed. When he could take no more he gripped Mycroft's shoulders tight, pulled his neck down and bit the base of it as hard as he could.

Blood spurted and Mycroft lost his mind. Almost screaming the omega clenched hard around his alpha's cock. Warm come bathed Greg's hand as his seed rushed deep into his lover. Mycroft was bucking wildly as Greg laved his tongue over the wound as it sealed itself shut. His mind had whited out. He could only feel the intensity of the pleasure that coursed through him, taste his mate's blood in his mouth, smell him in the air and all over him.

A long time later they stirred. When he opened them to gaze down at his lover Greg could see Mycroft's eyes had changed back. Mycroft leaned forward and licked the traces of blood from Greg's mouth. “You kinky little bastard. How lucky are you that we're werewolves now. That blood kink of yours won't kill you now.” Mycroft chuckled against Greg's mouth.

“My blood kink? I think you mean our blood kink. Yes we are very lucky.” before the change, before Greg's illness they used to play little games. Just tiny little bloodlettings, small, unnoticeable. For the last two months they had been changed their blood-play had grown steadily rougher as they tested their limits. There didn't seem to be any. Greg liked to break skin and Mycroft loved to be bitten. Once again their perverse souls were perfect for one another. Mycroft kissed Greg deeply one more time. “Very lucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been laying the threads for the storyline to take some pretty severe twists and turns. There may be a bit of blurriness at the edges because I might begin moving through time a little fast. Again, if you have an idea you feel like sharing please comment. If you liked something, let me know. If there is a glaring error or a plot hole the size of the moon for heaven's sake tell me so I can fix it.
> 
> In the next chapter - more stuff. It's coming, don't worry.


	6. Turning Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life has taken a lot of twists and turns. The wolves of London have a future to plan.

It was the beginning of winter. They had been living at Baskerville for six months. Titania's pregnancy had progressed normally and she was ready to deliver any day now. Today was another day of receiving delegates from various parts of the planet. For weeks they had done nothing but host group after group of suspicious, frightened, desperate people who seemed convinced that a new reign of tyranny was upon them. The groups were always small, never more than six or seven people per pack.

Vuk had grown entirely docile, allowing himself to be presented time and time again to the almost disbelieving visitors. It was here that John received the most attention. Vuk had been a feared fighter, his reputation for cruelty was well known among all werewolves. Even in fine suits with the London werewolves at his back John just didn't appear to be able to have overpowered Vuk on his own.

There were many werewolves but not unmanageable amounts. It had taken a lot of time to locate the often mobile wolves as their small clans and tribes made their way stealthily from place to place. After months of visitors though they'd found hundreds of lycans around the globe. A surprising amount but compared to the billions of normal humans also present, not so very many for an entire species. Mycroft and Titania began a database, recording kinships and packs in great detail.

The wolves of London were disturbed to witness the lycan hierarchy with betas far on the bottom, almost slaves. Their lot was to serve their packs as nannies, housekeepers, cooks or whatever job was wanted by the others. Omegas treated like favored but ignorant pets, owned and rarely bred. The alphas ruled everything, each tribe with it's own set of laws. Vuk had run rampant through all of them because there was no single champion brave enough or strong enough to take on the massive wolf. Until John. John was a great surprise to all lycans. His plain looks and mild mannerisms were so different from the alphas that came. Those werewolves were arrogant, hot-tempered and demanding. John fussed over Sherlock constantly as well, tending to his omega with open devotion and it shocked the visitors. 

John refused to change though and Sherlock blossomed yet again as he was publicly appreciated and admired by his alpha. John stunned the visiting alphas time and again when he made them aware of how Sherlock was in charge of the research, that Sherlock was the brains behind the operation with his omega brother Mycroft. When Sherlock got up to begin the presentation regarding their work only his status as Khan made them listen to what he had to say.

Most of them couldn't follow along at first. There were language differences. Greg stepped in and broke it down into easier pieces for them. He took it a step further and simply shifted into a wolf. Once everyone changed there were no more language or translation problems. Understanding grew and once again Sherlock could see the untapped potential laying there underutilized. There were tentative nods. It was uncertain if the werewolves were actually interested in solving the problem or if mere survival had taken up all their energy. Most of them asked for time to consider what they'd learned before they gave any sort of answer. The London pack was troubled.

Mycroft took subtle soundings from the visiting betas and omegas. The gender disparity had not always existed. As the world had grown less wild more and more packs were reduced to almost nothing, their former power diminished and waning. They wandered from place to place, never belonging, never able to remain. The permanently displaced. “This can't go on forever John. We are a superior species. Even the least intelligent wolf we've met so far has been above average. Even Vuk for all his brutishness has a certain brilliance when it comes to battle. We have to fix this.”

“How do you plan to fix an entire species Mycroft? What can we do. How do we pay for any ideas you have? Baskerville is big but it isn't big enough to take in every werewolf everywhere. What do we do when they've been here too long? We can't keep them locked away for decades, centuries!”

“No of course we can't. We need to develop a way for lycans to leave and reintegrate themselves into society. Clearly we need a long term system. Most of the tribes lack advanced education because by the time they finish school people are already noticing they haven't changed. They can't specialize in work they're interested in for the same reasons. Most adult wolves need to relocate every decade or so. That means uprooting everyone or breaking the pack. I have some ideas.” Mycroft. Of course he had ideas.

“Okay, tell me some.” John sounded tired. This kinging business was exhausting. Mycroft coached him constantly about protocols and mannerisms. Whenever there were visiting delegates John's time was completely taken up getting to know them. Their visitors were always impressed but remained wary. The idea of their work though caught everyone's attention firmly. Mycroft looked John over and began speaking quickly.

“We need to start a school, a very specialized school made for werewolves and their human families. A boarding school if you will. We keep it private, only those on our network can attend. We need to educate werewolves, find a way to keep them self-sufficient, and we need to change the social structure. A few more decades and soon they'll be locking omega's into special chambers only to be brought out for heats or breeding! Betas are being crushed underfoot. They're considered useless because they can't breed. Tell me, what would Sherlock do without Ethan now? Or you without Patrick? These men are not useless, they are just different. We can help existing werewolves now, train them to help with the work until we are staffed with nothing but werewolves, all of us with the same goals.”

Mycroft was passionate. John nodded. It was a great idea. “How do we pay for it again?” John wanted to help the beta wolves. He wanted to help all of them. John could see that the main thing most werewolves suffered from was lack of opportunity, not intelligence or drive.

Mycroft handed John a slim file. Inside were several reports from their financial department and plans to convert a wing of Baskerville to suit their purposes. They'd ended one gruesome project after another and now the facility housed only projects that related to their work. Much of the remaining building stood unused. “We earn a growing income off of what the project manager refers to as gray-science. Small things like cosmetics or cleaning solutions, small compounds for refrigeration units and that sort of thing. It's not exactly glamorous but since there's no law against the products of our research we've begun to capitalize on it. The last quarter has been promisingly lucrative. If we expand then we can easily earn enough money to keep every werewolf alive rolling in money.

“You're creating a whole new class of citizen.” said John sternly and Mycroft simply tilted his head as if confused.

“We already are John. What I want to do is keep us out of the gutters and to keep us solvent. Our goals shouldn't just end with children for Sherlock and I. The entire werewolf culture needs to be shaken off and repaired. From the sounds of it their previous Khagans have done nothing more but set up petty dictatorships for themselves. There hasn't been a useful Khan in centuries. We have powerful potential here John. Some careful planning could make that potential flourish in the long run.” John looked at Mycroft and realized he had new purpose in this as well. John nodded and Mycroft went back to work.

John sat through another briefing session with various department heads. Baskerville also had ties to organizations all over the planet and currently he was hearing about the Center for Disease Control as well as the space program from the United States. Titania read the reports with zeal. “We produce many products used in both programs. If we can secure a contract with them it would greatly increase our earning capacity.” She was excited. So focused was she that Titania didn't even notice the first clench of her belly. If John hadn't been looking right at that second he would have missed it.

“Titania how long have you been having contractions?” Titania looked surprised. She looked down at her vastly pregnant body. She and Ilva had sewn her elegantly draped robes that allowed her to move easily but still looked professional.

“I've been mildly uncomfortable for days. It's been getting gradually worse I think but I have been trying to ignore it. I suppose I wasn't allowing myself to notice. If I had to guess....about an hour?” John smiled and she smiled back. Titania was going to have a baby. She reached out a tentative hand. “Deliver my child for me Khagan. I trust no other.”

“I promise Titania. Come on. Off to the infirmary. We can contact the others once we're there.” He helped her up, keeping pace with her waddling steps as they strolled through the facility. By the time they got there Titania was puffing a bit but in very good spirits. John sent out a text to the pack and soon the infirmary was filled with smiling and excited faces. “We can't all stay here! Titania, who do you want with you.”

“Patrick of course. Sherlock. You can watch.” Sherlock almost danced around before he collected himself and thanked her gravely. The omega had never witnessed a birth before but hadn't quite worked up a way to ask to be included on this very private moment. He had of course spent a large amount of time researching human reproduction and had drawn up some preliminary ideas. Sherlock had also examined himself with intense thoroughness. After all the tests and scans were done they knew Sherlock definitely had something developing in his lower abdomen. So did Mycroft who's development was only at the earliest of stages. He endured the same barrage of tests Sherlock had himself undertaken and both men poured over the results endlessly. Neither Mycroft or Sherlock felt any different so they satisfied themselves with copious notes and ongoing tests.

The labor went on for hours. Titania was brave, breathing hard and focusing intently. She refused to cry out, determined to make it through delivery without screaming. John coached her tirelessly along with Patrick. Sherlock buzzed around trying to see from different angles and generally getting in the way. Titania kicked him at one point so he sulked in a corner for a while. Eventually curiosity got the best of him and he crept closer once again.

Early the next morning a successful Titania was delivered of a healthy baby girl. The new mother proudly held her newborn to her breast, nuzzling at her new child as she rested. Sherlock took measurements as soon as he was able and even talked Titania into allowing Sherlock to take very tiny blood samples. He made off with all the organic remains of the birth as well. Titania just shook her head. “He wants to know.” was all she said about it.

After a short rest and a wash a very weary wolf presented her daughter to the pack. Everyone crowded around the bed to admire the infant but no one offered to hold the baby. Titania clutched the small bundle to her jealously, still bonding with her child and reluctant to share that anyone. No one expected anything different so after a soft round of sincere congratulations everyone left Titania to recover.

A week later Sherlock came back with some results from his examination of the new baby, currently named Delta to mark her human status. Titania refused to name the child properly until her maker could be found. So far there had been no luck in locating the man. He had disappeared and no one seemed to know exactly how long he had been gone. “Fully human. A perfectly normal, completely healthy little girl. There's no trace of her parent's wolf blood. I'm running further tests to examine other areas of interest. Still, it's something at least.”

Sherlock was obsessed with the problem. His work hours grew longer and longer. John was beginning to miss his physical presence. Their minds touched often, phantom caresses of the utmost gentleness. It made their time apart bearable. Sherlock was onto something. “Consider it like a program error. We need to find someway of removing the error without damaging the entire program. We need to find some way of re-working the existing code.”

Sherlock's personal education had escalated. He threw himself into every advanced scientific field of study he could come across so he could work at the problem from every conceivable angle. He designed test after test, ran experiments continuously. He had teams of technicians watching results and working on all the permutations. He was single minded. The werewolf race had overtaken Sherlock's interests completely. They hadn't taken a single case since they came to Baskerville. Sherlock felt that the Yard should be able to take care of it's own problems. His experience with them hadn't been personally rewarding, it had just been his access point for cases. Now that Lestrade wouldn't even be there Sherlock saw no point in resuming his old life.

In a way it was like before. Sherlock grew testy, difficult. His insults drove people to tears and more than once Ethan had come running out of the labs with red eyes and lips firmly sealed shut. Sherlock always apologized afterward, especially to Ethan who always forgave Sherlock for his sharp words. Sherlock was quite fond of the beta and made up to his friend with packs of smokes and grudging compliments. Tranquility was becoming rare. One day when the omega's temper grew too frayed and too many tears had been inspired John decided Sherlock needed a break.

John took the pack for a run. There was a festival two towns over so the village closest to them would be nearly empty. The moors would be abandoned. It was the dark of the moon and what better night could a pack of wolves run free? He waited till full dark before he informed the pack of the upcoming activity. The omega's waved everyone farewell, Ilva almost too pregnant to walk and Siofra not far behind. Titania still refused to leave her babe for more than a few minutes so it was all boys carrying on in the night.

It was such fun. The air was damp and crisp. It smelled like snow and the darkness was like velvet. John and Sherlock very seldom had a chance to really stretch themselves. Mycroft and Greg snapped playfully at one another. Patrick and Ethan nipped at each other's hind legs, their long tongues hanging out as they rough-housed. Sherlock raced off as fast as he could run with John right on his heels. John could feel the excitement and enjoyment radiate off his mate. It made him happy. With a playful growl he nipped at Sherlock's tail. Sherlock suddenly swirled around, barreling right into John and knocking him to the ground.

It was an all out snarling fur flying claw scratching rumble. The two of them rolled over the moor and tore at one another. Patrick and Ethan came racing over in a panic except that both Sherlock and John suddenly flopped to their sides and began to lick each other's faces, their whole bodies demonstrating their delight. They shifted back and lay there on the ground holding hands and laughing hard. Sherlock was content again, his excess energy and frustrations now completely dealt with.

Patrick and Ethan both looked a lot like Mycroft. Their fur was reddish, both men were lean and trim and they moved with unearthly grace. Their beta status was even more evident while they were in their wolf forms. Their wolves were smaller, more compact. Ethan was wiggling around on his back, tongue lolling. “Sherlock I'd forgotten how nice this could be!” his body said. Patrick threw himself down and began to wiggle against the rocks and moss too. Both wolves panted and scratched their itches. Suddenly they both jumped up and began racing around in little circles. They jumped right over John and Sherlock where they lay and suddenly there were six wolves once again running as hard and fast as they could.

Everyone tore off to run as fast as they could. Their bodies stretched out, their feet finding the ground easily, their shapes making the run easy, pleasant. Miles were eaten up in no time. John bunched his body up and used every scrap of power he could muster, edging into the lead. Sherlock's dark head pulled up to his slowly. Shoulder to shoulder the pair made it to the edge of the moor before everyone else. Flopping onto the ground once more they panted and nuzzled one another. “This was a fantastic idea John.” said Sherlock. He closed his eyes and brushed his muzzle against John's.

“I had to get you out of the lab. You've hardly left it for days now. I was afraid you were going to bite one of the techs. What would we do with another wolf?” John laughed. Sherlock shifted suddenly and stared down at John. John was concerned and shifted back. He reached into Sherlock's mind and found his husband to be deeply surprised and almost dazed. “Sherlock. What?”

“Bite someone. The bite. The venom. I've been looking in all the wrong places. It's not in the blood it's in the venom. John! You're brilliant!” Sherlock kissed John enthusiastically. “This changes everything I've been thinking about. Everything.” He danced around, his long arms thrown in the air as he spun happily. John though he'd never seen anything as marvelous as his happy mate. Overhead white flakes began to drift down. Sherlock was ecstatic, his mind already racing as he worked with his new breakthrough. Soon the pace of the fall picked up. Shifting the wolves turned themselves around and raced each other back to Baskerville.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little concerned about the pace of the fic. It's slow but necessary for the future chapters. Tell you what, I'll take a short entertainment break before I get all serious again.


	7. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock had an epiphany and he needs to sort it out. How can John help?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something just the tiniest bit naughty.

Sherlock was considering his options. His mind whirled and danced as he thought deeply. He was lost in a storm of ideas, potentials that needed exploring, possibilities that needed eliminating. Keeping his eyes shut Sherlock began to probe at Mother's memories, trying to glean another fragment of useful information from the mass. 

Mycroft's review of it had been enlightening. Mother was female, old, wild. The way she viewed the world was not the way Sherlock or Mycroft viewed the world. Once they tried to decipher her character it became easier to understand her memories. Her impressions were based on scent, tactile information and sound with visual imagery falling far to the bottom of the list. Her motives were maternal, her familial urges making up most of her long existence. She also had her blind spots, things she didn't believe in or didn't understand. The information was there, it was just a matter of learning how to sift it out, to somehow make their different ways of thinking merge somehow. Once the brothers had worked that out they found filtering the memories to be much more rewarding and slowly they were uncovering one tiny treasure at a time.

Right now Sherlock needed clarity. He needed to be able to focus completely on the issue now that he had a new direction to work in. He needed to clear his mind of all the clutter created by his recent experiments and in a way, start from scratch. Sherlock had pondered the various ways to accomplish this and finally settled on the activity he was currently indulging in.

Sherlock was on his knees in front of John. The doctor had been a bit surprised to be pulled away from his rounds by his mate and dragged back to their suite. Sherlock hadn't bothered to do much more than pull John's trousers down just far enough to allow him access. He'd taken John right there in their living room and begun to suck him off slowly.

John was moaning softly as Sherlock worked steadily. The omega found it extremely pleasurable to taste his alpha like this, the repetitiveness of it was calming as well as arousing. Sherlock loved the smell and the taste of John, that clean straight-forward musk that always made Sherlock's mouth water. He loved the thickness of John's cock, loved the way John struggled to restrain himself. Sherlock teased him wickedly, dragging his tongue, going just a tiny bit slower than John wanted or not using enough pressure. John was going mad.

Sherlock took his lover in his hand, John's cock amply slick with Sherlock's spit. Now the dark haired man licked and sucked his way lower, playing with the lightly furred testicles hanging heavily between John's thighs. Sherlock loved doing this. He enjoyed pleasuring John, loved wringing those sighs and moans from his husband. Today he wanted to draw it out, linger over it, savor it. John was slowly going crazier. 

Sherlock licked and toyed with John's balls, tasting his way over the scrotal sac, taking one at a time into his mouth to toy with them softly. Slowly he worked his tongue back up John's shaft, loving the hard spongy texture. He applied a little more pressure as he got back to the frenulum, swirling his tongue up and around the corona of the glans, flickering across the slit. Sherlock smiled when John began to sound desperate. “It's been ages Sherlock. Have fucking mercy! You're killing me.”

Sherlock took John down to the root till he was unable to breath, just holding that hard cock deep in his throat. With a gasp Sherlock pulled off, panting for a minute before taking John in again and holding once more. He couldn't help himself and drooled a bit, the extra slickness running down John's cock and over his balls. When it reached John's anus Sherlock's fingers took advantage for a few moments. He pulled off with another gasp. It was good but it wasn't enough.

Sherlock stood up gracefully. He hadn't even taken off his jacket but John was sitting on the sofa with his pants and trousers puddled around his ankles, his shirt and jumper rucked up to his chest and his face was heavily flushed and sweaty. Sherlock stepped back and calmly began to undress. He enjoyed looking at John's body as he did so, feasting his eyes blatantly. When the last scrap of material had left him Sherlock stood in front of John, boldly aroused and hungry looking. “I want more John.”

John was enjoying his view just as much. Unashamed of his exposure he reached down to stroke himself lazily, his eyes wandering over the panorama of Sherlock's glorious body. His lover had been distracted since last night, had barely spoken all day. Now Sherlock had suddenly become intensely amorous. John knew what that meant and was more than happy to lend a hand. “The crop?”

“Yes John.” Sherlock turned on his heel and left the room. John sat up, stripped off the rest of his clothes and then followed. Sherlock was kneeling on the bed, ass facing John. He was half hard already and John stroked himself again as he admired Sherlock's beautiful firm behind. The crop was already laying on the mattress.

“You've been tense.”

“Yes John.”

“Can't focus?”

“No John.”

“Long or hard?” Sherlock thought about this for a moment.

“Long.”

“Very well. I'll be needing a kiss first, make it good.” Sherlock got up off his knees, twisted his upper body around and kissed John long and deeply. Their lips fit together perfectly, their tongues swirled and tasted the other. John sucked on Sherlock's bottom lip lightly. “Position.”

Sherlock dropped gracefully back into his pose. The first blow was light, a test. The second one was the same, one strike for each cheek. Sherlock had asked for long so he knew that the following blows would begin to leave more of an impact. Three...four.....harder now. Five. Six. Almost imperceptibly harder. John found a pace and kept with it, his blows carefully controlled as he worked his way over every inch of Sherlock's ample backside, over his thighs and even his hips. His strikes were never severe but the heat of them began to build as Sherlock's flesh grew rosy and striped.

“Oh yeah, that's gorgeous.” sighed John contentedly. Sherlock's cock was almost painfully hard. He was leaking pre-cum, a small damp spot forming beneath him on the duvet. “Good? More?”

“More darling, please, more.” moaned Sherlock. It was beginning to burn in the loveliest of ways as his skin super-heated and became sensitized. John was so good at this, so in control, so in charge. Sherlock quivered in anticipation of the next strike.

“Anything for you lovely one. Anything at all.” promised John. The blows continued, John slowly reworking areas now to take advantage of the sensitivity. Sherlock moaned with greater frequency though none of the strikes were particularly hard. Sherlock healed very quickly too but John knew exactly how long to wait before reapplying pressure, keeping Sherlock rosy and tingling from the top of his hips to the middle of his thighs. Sherlock closed his eyes and began to lose himself in the rhythmic slap and sting of the process.

One bit at a time Sherlock lost focus on all he had been thinking about. Door after door closed in his mind palace as he shut away information that was no longer currently relevant. Each blow John gave him was distinctive, gently painful. The hot little bursts of sensation receded slower and slower until at long last there was nothing but an almost hot and pulsing wave of static buzzing through Sherlock's mind.

He didn't think about the experiments.

He didn't think about the pack.

He didn't think about children.

He didn't think about being Khan.

He didn't think about the centuries in front of them.

He didn't think.

Sherlock's body popped out in sweat, making the contact from the crop sizzle just a little bit more. John was breathing harder now, both arousal and exertion making the soldier huff just a little. To see the look currently on Sherlock's face though, well, John would keep going until his arm fell off if that's what his omega needed. Sherlock was completely gone.

Sherlock's face was calm. Serene. His eyes remained shut and he was biting his full bottom lip, just a bit, but mostly to keep in the soft moans that were beginning to emerge. There was a dark red blush forming on his cheeks, mottling his neck and if John looked, he was sure it would have spread down to Sherlock's narrow chest as well. Now John was almost moaning and his ongoing erection throbbed.

John looked at the vision in front of him. Sherlock's long slender body was braced easily on his hands and knees. John let his eyes wander slowly up the lines of his gorgeous back. Sherlock's body was so beautiful. He was slender but actually very well muscled, each one clearly defined as if there were no room on Sherlock's body for anything that wasn't absolutely the most perfect of it's kind. Even the odd freckle that graced his creamy skin only enhanced the loveliness. John liked how Sherlock's fingers were knotted into the sheets, how breathy little grunts were starting to be heard, how his long toes curled up as his ample arse began to flex and roll ever so slightly. Oh yes. Sherlock was nearly there.

John had to force himself to keep the blows even and steady, letting Sherlock progress at his own speed. The omega was beginning to arch his back, allowing his knees to slide a tiny bit further apart. His hips were undulating subtly, minuscule thrusts in the air as his long hard cock hung down and dripped continuously. John soaked in the sight.

Sherlock was so incredibly beautiful. His dark wild curls were becoming sweat soaked, clinging to his neck and ears. His breaths were becoming shuddery as the pain from each blow faded. Sherlock's back arched further and his chest lowered as he began to bend himself with almost imperceptible slowness. Blow by blow Sherlock shifted himself. He let go of the sheets and allowed his hands to slide up toward the head of the bed. After a long time John was almost gasping with restrained arousal as he stared at the presentation in front of him.

Sherlock's chest was on the bed, his head crooked and laying down between his arms which were extended forward. His knees were braced apart, his hips high in the air so his ass was spread open and rosy from John's attentions. John finally shifted his strike pattern. His blows slowed but became sharper. Now each snap left a dark welt and with each welt came a deep moan. John's ability to strike with precision came into play as he lay deliberate strikes against Sherlock's ass, one side and then the other. John shifted his target suddenly and rained blows over the backs of Sherlock's thighs, carefully working upward until he was nearly at the ripe sensitive center of Sherlock's backside. He paused and the tension in the air spiked.

Three sharp blows rang out. The first blow spanned the tops of Sherlock's thighs and landed only millimeters away from his testicles. A second slap struck the omega across his perineum. A third slap cracked across the flesh hiding Sherlock's fluttering entrance. The result was glorious. Sherlock's thighs spread impossibly wide as his hips began to rut mindlessly. His cries were deep and throaty as he ejaculated completely untouched. His whole body flushed red from the top of his head all the way down to his feet and he shook slightly as his hips bucked convulsively. With a deep gasp Sherlock collapsed onto the bed, splayed out and groaning.

John dropped the crop and quickly knelt beside his husband. Taking himself in hand John stroked hard. With a grunt white jets of come criss-crossed the red welts on Sherlock's plump behind and John groaned again at the sight of it, his orgasm making him dizzy and weak with barely sated lust. He kept his fist moving slowly, milking every drop from himself to land on Sherlock. The semen spread slowly, running over the omega's heated flesh in spidery rivulets. John shuddered all over before sinking to the bed to pant breathlessly.

They lay there for a long time. John's arm ached and Sherlock was very close to being unconscious. John reached out with his mind and found Sherlock still in a static state, still floating calmly on a sea of endorphins. Retreating carefully John got himself up to care for both of them. He left the room and came back with a large bowl of warm water, flannels, aloe vera lotion and tea. He sipped his tea while he washed his husband down gently. John smoothed on the lotion to sooth Sherlock's skin. He would heal before his rush was over but John was always a considerate lover and he needed to do this more than Sherlock needed it to be done. When Sherlock was clean and tended John drew a soft sheet up over him and left him on the bed to go clean himself up.

John came back and lay beside Sherlock just to look. He was proud of what he had accomplished, proud of the expression on Sherlock's face, the limpness of his well satisfied body. John had helped by shutting Sherlock down using nothing more than a riding crop and some patience. No tricks. No puzzles. Just what John could provide. It was gratifying.

John worried for his mate, worried about the amount of time Sherlock could keep working on this problem. He was already impatient and he'd barely begun. John needed to figure out a way to keep Sherlock focused but not so much that he lost sight of everything else in the effort. Sherlock's mind worked so hard, he processed so much all of the time. John understood more than anyone but Greg what that was like for the omega. Both brothers suffered from the same curse, the curse of being themselves.

They never slowed. They never stopped. They thought about everything all the time. Both brothers could recall with precision nearly every moment of their lives. They had vast mental resources at their disposal but at the same time both men were enslaved by it. It set them impossibly apart from anyone else. Sherlock had never learned to filter it. When he was aware he was one hundred percent aware. Now that they were wolves he had the physical resources to withstand the strain of it but was also burdened with extra sensory input. Even after the time that had gone by since they first turned Sherlock still had issues with overload. John helped every way he could.

Sherlock loved John so much. He could smell his alpha next to him, feel the radiant heat from his body, smell the good clean scent of him. Sherlock was happy. His mind buzzed silently, the static only just beginning to fade, the chaos subdued and order established. Sherlock floated happily in the gift that only John could give him. Clarity. John had wiped everything away, allowed Sherlock to tuck all the irrelevancies into their proper place, neatly stored for whenever they'd be needed. Sherlock was content because now, now he could start fresh, begin again. He had time. So much time.

He had John too. There was nothing but oceans of time for them to swim in together. Sherlock considered the wonders of immortality. So much opportunity. He didn't need to waste it. He could savor it, savor John. It was alright. John only wanted what Sherlock wanted and what Sherlock wanted was forever with John. It was enough for right now and tomorrow he could begin again.

 

 

 

Riding Crop


	8. Titania's Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is settling down as they get used to living at Baskerville. There are challenges, but then, aren't there always?

John was tired and getting irritated. Today's audience, as Mycroft kept calling them, seemed endless. John was sincere in his desire to help the werewolves advance as a species. He was legitimately committed to being their king. Weeks of meetings had convinced them that leadership was absolutely necessary if they were going to succeed at anything, even survival. Werewolves used to be plentiful but like so many other species they'd dwindled as the human race voraciously spread over the face of the earth. 

Werewolves everywhere were almost hopelessly disorganized. The changes proposed by Mycroft had been well received and now the wolves of London were starting a school. Petitioners began arriving as soon as the news was confirmed. Everyone wanted part of their pack to attend, if only for the prestige of it. Now on top of everything else they had to do the wolves of London were hard pressed to develop a curriculum, secure housing, produce professors of worth that could somehow work with werewolves and so much more. John was tired.

The last of the babies had been born during the holidays. Now Baskerville seemed to revolve around the three little girls who graced the research lab turned nursery. Delta had been joined by Ilva's chubby little Kysa and finally by Siofra's very bald daughter Ena. Each event had been greeted with excitement. The omegas had all asked their Khagan to deliver their children and each of them had allowed Sherlock to attend. He was much better the second time round and almost useful by the time Siofra went into labor.

Sherlock had been in such a better frame of mind over the winter. Since the night of the dark moon run he had been relaxed and productive. He hadn't scrapped the research he'd begun. Instead he'd branched out to create a department exclusively dedicated to studying wolf venom. After a long discussion John allowed Sherlock to donate his own venom. It took months to regenerate and John was unwilling to have both of them without it and Sherlock absolutely refused to take John's first. In the end the omega had gotten his way. Harvesting it proved difficult. There were small glands behind their molars, almost like saliva glands but specialized and very tiny. Two minuscule sacs that held the precious fluid. In the end they needed to create a ball of stiff gel made of a neutral base. Sherlock bit it and allowed his venom to escape. Once Sherlock had his venom in hand he buckled down for some serious research.

John was getting more irritated. He wanted to leave Baskerville for another break. Once a month they went back to London to spend a couple of days with Mrs Hudson. They missed her and she missed them. They brought her gifts from their 'travels', paid their rent in advance and treated her to meals out and trips to see her sister. John decided that they were going that evening. He opened himself to Sherlock who was in the lab with Ethan. “Perfect timing John. The samples are prepared. Ethan will monitor them. We can go whenever you want.”

Sherlock loved London and never balked at leaving his work behind to go back. John handed the rest of the meetings over to Mycroft and Greg, told them they'd be back in a day or so and just left. Mycroft picked up where John left smoothly and the petitioners continued to be heard. Conscientiously John stopped by the nursery to tell his pack-mates that he and Sherlock were leaving. He fussed over the babies for a minute, loving each and every one of them like the precious gifts they were before handing them back to their proud mothers. “We'll see you when you get back Khagan.”

It was ostentatious but they had a private helicopter. Mycroft needed to be able to get back to London fast, whenever they brought the group places it was simpler, bringing back werewolf guests was discrete and Sherlock couldn't bear to take the train back. Instead the omega shamelessly made Mycroft keep the helicopter on hand and tonight John was glad. It was early enough to take Mrs Hudson out for dinner by the time they were back at 221B. After they got back they stopped in for a late night cup of tea, “Oh boys! I miss you so. It's so quiet upstairs. I do miss the clutter. I dust but it's just not the same.”

“We miss you too Mrs Hudson. We're enjoying our time home though. It's always lovely to see you.” Mrs Hudson looked pleased and sad at the same time.

“I do wish you could visit more but I suppose it's difficult. Is it the werewolf thing? Do you have to stay away because of that?” John's jaw dropped. Mrs Hudson was smiling sweetly, still looking sad and a little bit worried. She patted Sherlock's hand. “It didn't take long for me to figure it out dears. The first month you sent me away, and every month after, always at the full moon. Those scratch marks under the living room carpet? The hair in the lint trap of the dryer? Come now Sherlock. I've been your landlady for a very long time. I have picked up a thing or two.”

“Mrs Hudson why didn't you say anything?” She looked surprised at John's question.

“Oh my boys. I was waiting for you to bring it up. It's none of my business after all though you aren't exactly quiet. I'll have to have two herbal soothers tonight.” she winked at them and Sherlock laughed while John blushed.

Sherlock reached over and patted her hand affectionately, “Mrs Hudson would you like to come back with us and meet the pack?” Finally she looked surprised.

“It's not just you and John?” John shook his head and smiled while Sherlock took her hand and explained what he could. It took more than a cup of tea to get through it all. “Oh. Babies! I love babies. Do you wonder if the young ladies would mind if I came to see them? Or they could come here?” she looked so hopeful.

“Come with us Mrs Hudson. Meet everyone. I'm sure they'd love you.” That was it. They took Mrs Hudson back to Baskerville the very next morning. She hugged Mycroft and Greg, surprising both of them.

Mrs Hudson was a marvel. If she was surprised at how many werewolves there were she didn't show it. She didn't smell afraid. When she met Ethan and Patrick, well, Mrs Hudson went into overdrive. It was clear Mrs Hudson had not only a soft spot but also a sixth sense for spotting troubled young men. Doling out comforting hugs and clucking like a mother hen she chivvied everyone to the table for lunch, taking around a tray with tea while Patrick trailed after her handing out everything else. The pack nearly always shared their meals together. It felt comfortable to be with one another and mealtimes became a natural time to bond with one another.

Mrs Hudson sat between the two betas, chatting gaily about celebrity gossip, the queen, the facility, just everything. She was magic. She cooed over the omegas, made a huge fuss over the babies and generally won everyone over in a trice. They invited her to stay. “Here? What about Baker Street? Mrs Turner? I do miss all of you but I don't think I'd feel right staying anywhere else.”

“The Empire would crumble.” teased Sherlock with a gentle smile. He patted her hand and asked John permission to tell her the last bit of news they'd held back. “Now that I'm a wolf Mrs Hudson it seems that I have become the type of wolf who can do something rather special. It seems that in a year or so, I will be able to bear a baby, if I so choose. That's our plan, far in the future. John and I will have children.”

The sound she made was a cross between a screech and a gasp. Throwing her arms around Sherlock she burst into tears! “Oh boys! A baby! A tiny doctor detective! I have to start knitting as soon as I get home!” When Sherlock told her Mycroft could expect the same she collapsed into her chair and cried tears of genuine joy. Mycroft was very moved. He gave her his very expensive snow white handkerchief to blot her tears. “I'm sure it's too much to ask but...do you suppose, well, do you suppose I might see you?”

John grinned down at her. She sat straight in her chair as all the men gathered in front of her, the women to the side holding their babes in the their arms. In a blink Mrs Hudson was facing six gigantic wolves. She marveled at them. Sherlock allowed her to stroke his ears but flinched away when her hands moved to explore his face. He shrugged back into his human form swiftly. “I'm sorry Mrs Hudson. It's instinct. When I'm the wolf especially I can't bear to be touched by anyone but John. He's my alpha, we're bonded. It's like marriage but permanent.” 

The others had changed back. Mycroft looked down at Mrs Hudson and stepped aside, just the tiniest bit dramatically. “John is our king. He's the king of all werewolves.” Now Mrs Hudson looked purely shocked.

“John? How? When?” She clasped her frail hands under her chin in surprise and looked over to her tenant. John looked embarrassed.

“Well we got into trouble, remember the problem with the front stoop? Well it turns out that Sherlock is something of a commodity in the wolf world, an omega. Mycroft's one as well. At any rate Sherlock got kidnapped by another alpha. That's a dominant wolf, which I guess Greg and I are. We tracked them down, I ended up beating the other wolf and when I did that I became king. Khagan. That's what they call me. Sherlock is....”

“Not the king. His official mate. His ONLY mate, may I remind everyone?” Sherlock glared around, especially at John, daring anyone to use his title. “We inherited the pack, they're our family now. Ethan and I work in the lab together and Patrick assists John. The ladies will be moving on with various projects in the fullness of time. Mycroft takes care of eating all the cakes and Greg drinks all the wine.”

“Sherlock.” warned John. Sherlock shrugged one shoulder in an imperceptible apology. Mycroft was allowed one searing glare before he composed himself. Mrs Hudson tutted.

“Be nice to your brother Sherlock.” Sherlock subsided immediately. The new pack was stunned and just stared at Mrs Hudson who was hugging the Khan gleefully once again. Sherlock let her squeeze him over and over again, pressing her brightly painted lips to his cheek as she bade them farewell. Mycroft and Greg would bring her back to London. When they returned they would bring the next batch of visitors in to meet with John. Visits back and forth were promised and soon the happiest landlady in London was on her way home.

“She makes a wonderful rum cake.” was all Sherlock would say when he noticed the room full of stares being directed at him. Ignoring everyone Sherlock swept out imperiously, Ethan in tow. John grinned and sent a wave of affection toward his omega. Sherlock's burst of love warmed John right down to his toes and the alpha knew his lover was happy.

John turned to look at his new pack. “She's been like a mother to Sherlock, to both of us. He's very fond of her, fond enough to die for her.” He got an unanticipated bow of respect from all of them.

“You truly are a great Khagan and the Khan is equally worthy.” When they straightened themselves John could see pride in every one of their faces. He could read it in the set of their body. They were pack-mates to the Khagan, a good Khagan, a powerful pack. It reflected well on all of them, gave them status they had never enjoyed before. Each woman held her child tight to her body, knowing that John could have destroyed each innocent tot if he had chosen. He hadn't. He never would. He'd promised them and they believed. He was a strong and wise leader. It made them worthy.

John dismissed everyone, resuming his rounds with Patrick by his side. They checked through the projects, addressing Sherlock's various concerns and requests, reviewing reports and monitoring the health of the pack and the new children. Suddenly John's mobile rang. He normally got texts so he was surprised to hear Greg's voice on the other end. “Head's up John. Get Titania decked out. She's got a visitor.”

“What do you mean visitor?” demanded John. Titania had sent messages to her missing family. She'd been trying for months and hadn't heard a word.

“John. Her maker is here. We're flying in just a minute.” John disconnected the call and sought out Titania. She was nervous and excited.

“Go get dressed, everyone. We want to make a good impression right, isn't that what Mycroft said?” The ladies curtsied absentmindedly before leaving to prepare themselves. All the pack normally wore elegant finery when meeting a new pack but this case was different. This was Titania's maker, the wolf who would decide whether or not to allow Titania to raise her own child or not. Privately John vowed to bite the man to pieces if he tried to take Delta away. With that in mind John retired to their suite, calling Sherlock to tell him of the development. By the time John got to his front door Sherlock had arrived.

“They've just left London. The maker and one other, a woman.” They didn't know much about Titania's maker. She was incredibly reluctant to speak about the man. All the wolves were reluctant to speak of their makers. John supposed it was very difficult to speak about people who had essentially sold you into eternal slavery to a monster. John grew grim. Sherlock pawed through their wardrobe and pulled out a brand new suit John had not yet worn. Since John had promised he made no argument as Sherlock helped him get ready.

It seemed like no time at all had gone by before they were notified that the helicopter had returned safely. Everyone gathered in their conference room. Sherlock looked the group over. “Titania, stand in the middle. Ilva, Siofra stand on either side of her. Patrick, Ethan, stand behind Ilva and Siofra. John, come stand with me. The babies were sleeping in the nursery, looked after by one of the endless list of on site technicians who volunteered for childcare. Everyone loved the little girls and their list of volunteers needed to be rotated carefully to give everyone a fair chance to hold the love bundles.

Titania looked calm but John could smell her nervousness. All of them. This was the first maker for their pack they'd located. John went to his pack mate and for the first time he embraced her. After releasing Titania from the short hug John cupped her face with his hand and smiled down at her. “You've made me very proud. Let your maker see that.” Titania drew herself up to her full if not impressive height. She was draped in elegant scarlet layers, almost Asian in appearance. Someone had swept her hair back and tied it into a complex knot at the nape of her neck.

John sniffed. He could smell Greg and Mycroft bringing the maker and the other wolf. There was a polite knock at the door before they entered. Mycroft came in first followed by a small dapper man who was trailed by a short blond woman. Titania sank into a bow, every bit of formality John and Sherlock had tried to get her to drop was brought out. Titania's head was almost thigh level before her bow stopped. “Maker.”

The man stood and looked at Titania as if he were bored. John was a little surprised. Titania had never spoken of her maker but for some reason John had the impression that they were close. He was further surprised when the blond woman arrogantly stepped forward to inspect Titania. Sherlock glared at the blond and John could sense that his mate did not like this woman at all. John stepped forward, between Titania and the woman. The blond looked up and smiled lazily at John. The maker stepped forward and extended his hand toward the alpha. “Iakov.”

Titania gasped with the others. They sounded offended. Immediately all five wolves dropped to their knees. Titania's head bowed to the floor reverently, “My lords, with deepest respect do I introduce you to my maker Iakov and his guest. Iakov. I have the honor of introducing you to Khagan John Watson. Iakov, I have the honor of introducing you to Khan Sherlock Holmes.”

Iakov's face flickered for a second as he looked at Titania still prostrate on the floor. As if connected all five wolves rose gracefully to their feet, bowed in unison toward John and Sherlock as the pair moved to meet the visitors. Iakov wasn't impressed. He took the blond woman's hand and presented her to John. “Khagan. I've heard about you and your work. I bring you a gift. She is well trained and very intelligent. John Watson please meet your newest mate, omega Mary Morstan.”

Sherlock hissed furiously and all the other wolves snarled. John frowned at the woman who was smiling invitingly at him. What did this strange wolf think he was doing? No one else had attempted this. John's voice was cold. “I don't have a mate named Mary Morstan. I have a mate named Sherlock Holmes.”

Iakov smiled and it didn't make anyone feel better. “Khagan. A single mate is insufficient to your rank. Mary is talented, clever, bedable....”

Sherlock cut him off and John let him. “Iakov. Mary Morstan could be the most gracious and accomplished woman on the face of the earth but she will NEVER be John's mate, not even as a technicality.”

Iakov shrugged, “Perhaps after the novelty wears off from bedding the other wolves the Khagan will be interested in sampling her. The full moon is coming up soon, maybe the Khagan would agree to Mary's request?”

Mary had kept her eyes on John. She was sultry, provocative. Her scent was sweet and tickled at John's nose pleasantly. Her breasts were rounded the way he used to like, her backside was plump and full and she was just the right height to make kissing simple. John decided to end this before Sherlock murdered someone. “Iakov. You have offended me with this offer! You have offended my mate, my ONLY mate. I will never take another.”

Mary smiled slowly again and ran her eyes over John suggestively. She moved closer so he could smell her enticing aroma. “I'm ripe. I formally request a child of the Khagan. I want the child of a king. Let me share your bed this full moon. Breed me.”

Sherlock freaked out. He shifted to his wolf form and had Mary on the floor, his jaws on her throat before anyone could even shout in surprise. Iakov looked sick and Mary wouldn't stop screaming. John glared at the small alpha and didn't make any effort to get Sherlock to control himself. These two put John on edge. Greg was almost snarling and John could feel the rest of his pack grow increasingly alarmed. “I told you that you had offended my omega. I told you that I would never take another for my mate.”

Iakov looked up, his smile oily. He grinned at Titania who paled and then the man smiled at John as if Sherlock weren't right in the middle of deciding to rip Mary's throat out. John still made no move to get Sherlock to stop.“Would you take Mary as part of the bargain to keep the baby?”

Buggery fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get complicated. I won't be posting installments quite as quickly but only because editing and keeping the plot holes from forming can take a bit of time.
> 
> oh and I totally hate Mary. I want her to die in S4. I mean, yeah she's Martin's wife and isn't that wonderful but JOHNLOCK people! You can't have Johnlock with Mary in the middle. The math just doesn't work out.


	9. So what was that about Mary?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bargain has been offered. What will the wolves of London do?

Sherlock let Mary go, dropping her to the floor with a dull thud. Her throat was red and lightly bleeding but the blond managed to drag in a deep breath before filling the air with another piteous shriek. Padding back to John Sherlock remained a wolf and glared at Mary, his silver eyes unblinking. Mary's screams faded into little gasping sobs. She picked herself up off the floor and tottered over to Iakov, standing behind him to collect herself. The alpha stood there and just handed her a tissue to clean herself up with.

“You want to bargain?” John was revolted. From what John had learned through Greg and Siofra wolf law was quite abrupt. It changed from pack to pack as well but all of it boiled down to one simple fact. Alphas ruled everything. This one seemed to have no trouble using his omegas to gain personal advantage for himself.

The dark haired little man was repellent. There was something about the set of his shoulders, the way he smelled. He was greasy, hair poorly dyed, clothes expensive but off the rack. He was a game player but not the best. John forced himself to not kill Iakov when he spoke next, “The baby is my property. Titania had no right over it when it was conceived, no right to it while it was in her and no right to it now that it's out. We'll be taking the baby since you don't want Mary.” Iakov smirked. John felt his brow knit and forced himself to keep his expression smooth, his body relaxed. Mary was releasing a distressed scent. She was an unbound omega, every alpha within scenting distance would want to respond to that call. Iakov smirked again.

“How do you see this working out?” asked John mildly. He didn't move a muscle, didn't allow himself to look at Mary or reach out to Sherlock who was growling inaudibly. The woman whimpered lightly and the scent grew stronger, layered with arousal. Her face could lie, her body could lie but her pheromones could not. The blond omega was turned on by the upcoming violence. John reached out for his mate's mind and found Sherlock to be white hot with rage. 'It's a challenge love. These pissants have come to challenge us. She wants to be Khan.' Sherlock agreed with John's observation.

'She's flirting with you John, even now. She's been trying to get you to look at her while she's crying. She can't keep it up much longer. Go ahead. Look sad if you can manage.' John did. A flicker of triumph went across both rival faces. They'd gambled on John's reputation for being tender toward omegas. This was a power play, a risk Iakov was taking to see what John was made of. He'd walked right into their den to mock them to their faces.

Iakov began to speak lightly. “You keep Mary and the baby, I walk out of here. Or, you don't keep Mary, I take the baby and we walk out of here.” He seemed sure of himself. How did he suppose he would make it through this wing, or the rest of the facility, or past any of the pack? No one wanted Delta to be taken.

“Why should I want Mary?” asked John who allowed himself to look at the red-eyed omega once again. She gave him a tremulous smile. Her face was sweet and warm. Her hair was slicked back neatly but she had a warmth to her that John found distantly appealing. Perhaps if there was another dimension of reality he would have been very interested in someone like Mary. In that world perhaps she would have gotten to know him, married him one day and been his family. John stifled his loathing of her now. He might have been willing to think she was a pawn just like Titania had once been but after that look, well, John knew what kind of bitch she was. In this reality John loved Sherlock and no quality of Mary's would ever be enough to distract him.

“Maybe you don't want Mary but you do want the kid. I don't care. I don't really want a crying brat to raise. I'll probably just drop it off and let one of my other omegas raise it until I can find a place for it.” How many omegas did this man control? Where had parasites like Iakov and Vuk come from?

Titania could not restrain herself. Her normally composed face was overwrought. “Khagan! He will sell my child and not keep her! He sold me to Vuk, used me to pay his debts like I was a sack of coins. I was raised a slave to him. Khan! Please!”

Iakov darted across the room and backhanded Titania so hard she crashed into the table. Patrick and Ethan both leaped between the omegas and the alpha. Mary shifted into her wolf form, her fur suspiciously dark for a blond woman. The second all four feet hit the floor Mary attacked Sherlock.

Greg grabbed Mycroft and with Ethan and Patrick herded the omegas out of the room, protecting the new mothers instinctively. They left John standing on all fours, his green eyes locked onto Iakov's smirking face. Sherlock and Mary were tumbling around the empty room, their snarls and growls echoing as they savaged one another.

Sherlock really wasn't that good of a fighter. He'd never fought as a wolf before either. Sherlock's yelps and cries rang out with alarming frequency but he refused to let John step in. This was his fight, the fight to remain Khan. If Sherlock wanted to keep his place by John's side he'd have to win this fight or die. Mary was small, keen and knew all kinds of hurtful ways to bite Sherlock. She grabbed at his leg and bit down. Blood ran. She raked her teeth over Sherlock's shoulder. Scarlet bloomed. Mary even snapped at his tail, winning an indignant screech from the black wolf.

Unfortunately for Mary Sherlock was an amazingly fast learner, larger, stronger and as she soon discovered, much, much faster. He toyed with her. Sherlock allowed Mary to continue to nip and harry him around the room, allowing her to show him how she fought, what she considered to be weak points. He yelped dramatically, his incredible acting skills enabling him to look haggard and worn down. Mary began to smell triumphant as she routed him. John watched as Sherlock 'accidentally' exposed his long elegant neck. Mary couldn't resist. She went for it.

Things went very differently then. Mary's jaws snapped closed on empty air. Sherlock stood muzzle to muzzle with her, his silver eyes flat and empty. He looked down and his body suddenly reflected regret. His body said everything. Sherlock did not want to kill. There really wasn't a choice.

Mary was a werewolf so she didn't go down easy. Attack after attack was repelled as Sherlock turned the tables and harried her. Neither Iakov or John moved a muscle. They stared at one another, Iakov still on two feet. Sherlock tore at Mary's face. “You'll never have him.” he snarled. Sherlock savaged the base of her neck where the bond bite would normally occur. “You'll never be bred by him.” Sherlock became cruel and tore at her underbelly. It got messy very fast and even with four feet Sherlock found it difficult to stay upright. Mary screamed and screamed as he clawed out everything that should have remained hidden. The screams continued until Sherlock bit her still beating heart in two.

Mary was dead. The room smelled of a sickening combination of Mary's lingering arousal as well as the tang of her blood and innards. Her body was already crumbling away to dust. Licking his muzzle Sherlock padded over to John to look at Iakov standing there. The alpha smelled furious, filled with hate, filled with covetous jealousy as he let his eyes wander over Sherlock's gore spattered fur. Both Sherlock and John peeled back their lips to bare their fangs and snarled at his indiscretion. He snarled back. “That was my best bitch.”

The men shifted back, not doing Iakov the honor of addressing him as wolves. Sherlock took out a handkerchief and tried to wipe Mary's blood off his face. “We decided to keep her. Thanks. We accept your bargain. Titania will be pleased.” said the omega. Challenges for leadership nearly always ended in death. How John handled Vuk once again was an unexpected and rarely occurring exception. Sherlock was well within his rights as far as werewolves were concerned. John looked at Iakov. John wasn't so very much taller than the other man. 

“The laws are changing Iakov. Soon. Very soon. I am not allowing you to keep selling child after child just so you can make a little extra on the side. That's not how things work any more. Days of the bad wolf are over.” John was calm. His voice was firm and whether he wanted to or not Iakov trembled with the effort not to obey the clearly stronger alpha in the room. John's presence had never seemed more imposing.

“You have no right over that kid! It's mine! The laws say so!” Iakov was insistent.

“Which laws Iakov? The laws of this land? We have a legal expert in the hallway right now, we can check on human trafficking laws if you like. We also have a member of Scotland Yard here as well, maybe they'd have a comment or two about an unrelated male making off with a female infant for commercial purposes. Or did you mean werewolf law where manipulative bottom feeders like you and Vuk roam around capitalizing on the misery of people you should be helping. I am Khagan in case you didn't think this through. My decisions override any law from any pack. That's the point. Sherlock is Khan, will remain Khan, will be Khan until the end of our days. You wasted your omega for nothing. You thought that because I didn't kill Vuk that she wouldn't die? I'm not Sherlock and Sherlock isn't me. You should have done a little more research.”

Iakov was a timber wolf in a blink and John was on the floor with his throat being crushed. Sherlock jumped on Iakov's back, wrapped his arms around the barrel torso and pulled as John shifted. Sherlock leaped away, shifting as he did so. Iakov's teeth snapping with frustration as he bit at nothing. Now he was facing two very angry wolves. Sherlock stepped back and John stood alone. His breathing sounded raspy. Sherlock reached out but John let him know he was perfectly fine. Content Sherlock faded into his own mind and watched the end of Iakov.

John was as brutal as Sherlock. These wolves had come here to boldly kill them and take over! Was there no subtlety in the wolf world? How did the alpha's maintain control for so long? How did they remain in secret for so long when they were so STUPID? This wolf didn't respect their bond! Iakov just assumed John would be willing to mount any omega that came his way despite his mate! Was that what happened in other packs? Was that the way of it? As far as John could tell all the omegas he had met were either unbonded and with their maker or bonded and with their mate. He couldn't recall other wolves who kept more than one omega for themselves except for Vuk. John decided right then and there that he was going to seek out wolves like that and if the omegas were unwilling or being abused in any way John would reign hell down on the alpha responsible.

John realized his mouth was filled with a warm rich coppery taste. Blinking his eyes he stepped back and dropped Iakov's ruined heart onto the floor. Sherlock came over to nuzzle his alpha, his long raspy tongue cleaning the debris from John's grizzled face. By the time John was clean there was a second pile of dust on the floor sitting in a smear of blood. Throwing their heads back John and Sherlock howled long and low. In the distance through the walls and down the corridors they could hear their pack howl in return. Triumph rang in every voice as the wolves rejoiced in their leader's victory. Baskerville filled with wolf song and all the humans within it trembled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda Abbington is a splendid woman in a deeply satisfying relationship with Martin Freeman. I wish them nothing but continued happiness and endless years of love and devotion.
> 
> Amanda, you took the role as Mary and totally harshed my Johnlock buzz. You had to die. It's nothing personal, it's just one of those things.
> 
> Benedict, if you ever for some insane reason have enough time to read this, you're such an inspiration. Thanks.


	10. Newcomers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The challenge has been met but there are certain consequences.

The battle was over. John and Sherlock chased each other all the way back to their suite. Shifting as they got to their door they locked it behind themselves and pounced on one another. “Sherlock. So fucking sexy! Come here baby.” John was tearing his way into Sherlock's clothes. 

Sherlock was making little gasping sounds as he tried to get naked faster while unbuttoning John's suit. “I hate this suit! Your jumpers are better!” cried the omega as the buttons went on and on. He ripped everything open and let the tatters drop unheeded.

John laughed and both men stopped caring about clothes. Dragging themselves to the shower they got under the hot spray to wash the blood from one another. Sherlock was drunk with victory. His John was the most magnificent wolf ever to have existed. He was so powerful, so commanding! None of his rivals stood a chance, there wasn't a wolf alive that could come close to matching him. It was right that John should be king, indeed Sherlock had long considered John to rule over him entirely, having long ago given himself up to John's dominion. It had been the best choice Sherlock had ever made.

John was running nearly entirely on instinct. He felt the primal need to take his omega, to scent him, own him. They washed each other down rapidly, roughly scouring one another to remove the slightest trace of the vanquished. They'd survived their first challenge and they had done it together.

They fell on each other wildly, biting and scratching the other. Tumbling out of the shower they managed to shut it off, wipe themselves down a bit before battling their way to the bedroom. John pinned Sherlock down face first, legs splayed wide. He only took a moment to prepared himself before he forced his way deep into Sherlock's keening body.

They were savage. Howls and snarls echoed through their bedroom. Blood spilled and each man fought the other for more. John took Sherlock roughly, spearing him over and over again. Sherlock reared back, willing and wanting it to hurt. John tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of Sherlock's head, yanking backward to lift his lover's face from the pillow. Sherlock moaned and bucked beneath him. John bit.

Sherlock's entire body lifted from the bed as he shouted. His hips rolled rhythmically and John could smell his lover's seed spill to the sheets. The clench and tug of Sherlock's orgasm was all the trigger John needed. He came, pressing himself as deeply as he could to pulse himself out inside Sherlock's eager passage. John slumped forward, his hips jerking inward reflexively as his orgasm short-circuited everything. Sherlock wasn't moving anymore, just dragging in harsh shuddering gasps of air as he sprawled beneath John.

John didn't want to move. He wanted his smell all over Sherlock, his come dripping from him, his bite to scream to anyone who dared come close that Sherlock belonged to John. No one else was welcome. Already Sherlock's scent had taken on more of John's, the aroma of the omega ever so slightly altered as John's dominance took effect. Any wolf that met them now would know that the two of them were closely bonded.

After a very long time Sherlock's deep voice stated bluntly, “We need another shower.” John giggled and soon both of them were laughing together, Sherlock's chuckle jiggling John just enough that the soldier slid off his back and let himself flop limply to the side. “John that was the most intense experience we've ever had! I can't believe we just killed two people! I didn't even think about it. I just reacted and before I knew it Mary was dead. I don't even feel bad about it.”

“I know what you mean. It was like we couldn't help ourselves, like the time Greg challenged me only worse. Greg couldn't help what he did but these two provoked it. They knew what they were doing and they thought that being more experienced at being wolves was an advantage.” Again John was very confused about werewolf dynamics. How did people like Vuk and Iakov become so powerful. He asked Sherlock who fell into silence for several long minutes.

“Instinct John. That's part of it. Werewolf survival instinct. There must be triggers we're not aware of, some combination of pheromones or gender assignment. Unless you are an alpha nearly all wolves instinctively wish be led by a strong leader. Mary and Iakov wanted the power we now possess. It's very likely they had a long term plan in place. Mary was obviously a very unusual omega. She wasn't being coerced by Iakov, she was his partner but not his mate. That wouldn't help them, they wanted her available for you. We need more information. We haven't met any but there must be female alphas out there as well as male omegas. Mycroft and I can't be the only ones.”

“I think their motivation was money where ours is long term survival. Titania was sold Sherlock! She was raised to be a slave! How do we help her deal with that? What about the boys?” John always referred to Ethan and Patrick as boys even though both of them were older than him by nearly eight years. There was something gentle about both of them that John felt worthy of protecting so he did. “Vuk was an animal. They've never admitted it but it's clear he raped them while he had them and used them any way he wanted. Did he prostitute them? What were his plans for all the babies? Was he selling them? I'm nearly positive that's what Iakov was doing.”

Sherlock almost retched at the idea of selling his own child. How could Vuk do that? How could Iakov? How many children had suffered this fate just so alphas like that could live easy? What about Mary. Was she a willing womb, ready to bear her young only to hand them off to the highest bidder? It made the omega sick to his stomach. “We need to find the rest of Iakov's pack now that he's dead.”

They didn't really need to look. Three weeks later they received a message from a small group of people waiting at the train station in London. Greg went to pick them up, bringing Patrick with him and leaving a complaining Mycroft behind to work with Sherlock. When the group returned everyone retired to their conference room to meet.

There were seven, four women and three men. All of them were gaunt, poorly dressed and terrified. Patrick and Ethan moved quickly and got them all seated as soon as possible. The omegas crowded around serving tea and placing small trays of sandwiches and fruit within easy reach of the newcomers. They didn't say a word, just ate hungrily as if it had been a very long time since they'd had food last. John looked them over. It was difficult to tell with werewolves since they recovered so quickly but every single person in front of him smelled of pain.

John made sure they had time to drink another round of tea before he began his introductions. All of them stared wild-eyed at Sherlock and Mycroft. Of the seven people sitting there six were omegas and one a beta. All the omegas were of breeding age and two of them were nearly at the same stage of pregnancy. One woman. One man. A pregnant male omega. 

The beta stood. She was small, mousy and reminded everyone who knew her of Molly Hooper. “Um. Hi. I'm Sidney. We're...um, we were Iakov's. Our handlers found out he was dead and sent us all on without a word. Um...we don't exactly know what's going on. We were given a number to call to ask for a ride. Um....sorry?”

Sherlock stepped forward and looked them all over. The newcomers all stood nervously and introduced themselves. The other women were Isabelle, Carlotta and the pregnant Mai. The men were named Ian and Amand who held hands with pregnant Timothy. Sherlock stood in front of the very nervous man and looked at the almost unnoticeable swell of his abdomen. It was the scent in the air that gave it away. This man was definitely gestating. “How far along are you?”

Timothy was tall and thin, ginger and gentle looking. His eyes were faded blue and he looked carefully at Sherlock, his nostrils fluttering slightly as he took in the other omega's scent. Cutting his eyes at John now Timothy answered. “Two months.” Sherlock's face had that look on it, a look John hadn't seen since they'd last worked cases. Sherlock was fascinated. John stepped in.

“My name is John. You're now at Baskerville.” With that name all the women nearly shrieked in horror. John stopped his now perfected welcome speech in surprise. “What!”

“The Hounds! They've sent us to the Hounds!” wailed Isabelle. The wolves of London looked at each other in bewilderment. The newcomers crowded together, the pregnant wolves in the center and clung to one another for a moment. Slowly they broke apart and looked at the surprise on the faces of all the well dressed wolves around them.

Ian stepped forward a tiny bit, the scent of fear rolling off of him. “We've been told about the Hounds. You take werewolves prisoner, do experiments on them. Kill them. Children first. Everyone knows.”

Sherlock snorted. “Who told you? Iakov? Let me assure you the reputation of Baskerville has nothing to do with the description I've just heard. The only wolves we've killed were Iakov and that dreadful Mary person. They appeared fully grown if somewhat naive. They challenged us so it wasn't like we asked for the chance to do them in.”

Sherlock's incredibly offended tone actually helped. All the newcomers jerked back in surprise as Sherlock flung himself huffily into a chair and angrily drank his tea, muttering to himself about plebeians and their inability to understand the simplest things. Mycroft stepped forward. “Baskerville belongs to us. My brother and I are attempting to sort out a problem with werewolves, something that needs fixing. We have harmed no one, indeed, we have only tried to help.”

Titania stepped forward and looked carefully at Iakov's old pack. She seemed puzzled. “I know none of you. Where is Bianca? Selene? Byron?” Timothy blanched when he heard the names. He had begun to calm but now his fear spiked high again.

John stepped forward and radiated calm reassurance. His presence had a visible affect on the newcomers. John shone like a bright light, made everyone feel safe, made everyone feel protected and cared for. Tears rolled down Timothy's face and he clutched his stomach protectively. “Iakov had them bred out and destroyed. I knew Bianca for a short time, only two months. She was killed after she swore she would bear no more children for Iakov. He was selling the babes to families with money, childless families who could provide luxurious lives.”

Everyone shied back when they heard this and Titania's cheeks were wet with tears. Her family was dead. Ethan and Patrick wrapped their arms around her and held her up as she mourned the loss of her pack mates, victims of soulless greed. John and Sherlock felt the jolt of horrified shock shoot through them. They understood suddenly how Vuk had made his living, understood what almost happened to Delta. These men pressured their omegas into bearing children using their weakness to extract the promise. Titania's fate was sealed, her agreement completely violated. She had agreed to send her child to her family and now everyone knew that child would never have seen any of her true blood ever again. It made everyone sick.

Sherlock stood up and stared down at the small cluster of fearful wolves. “You are safe here. We do not sell children. You will be taken care of, allowed your own lives as long as it does not endanger the work we do here. Mai, Timothy. You have every right to say no at any point. I will not force you. I will ask however that you allow me to monitor your pregnancies very closely. Nothing I do will harm you or your children. I simply wish to observe.”

Ilva stood forward, her softly accented voice sweet and kind. “Sherlock has helped all of us with our children. We have three among us and never once have they been harmed.” She gestured to her pack mates, her voice gently urging. “These ones here, poor Titania, Ethan, Patrick, Siofra, myself. We all started where you were. Khagan took us in. He cares for us, keeps us well, loves us. He will do the same for you.”

The newcomers dropped right to their knees and stared at John. As one they all bowed deeply as if connected together. John frowned. “Get up. I hate that title. You can call me John and whatever you do never, ever call Sherlock that other thing, alright? Ilva was right. You will stay here and we will look after you. You can help or not help in the work as you choose. You'll learn a lot more in the days to come but for now we need to get you settled.”

Mycroft stood up and flowed over. The newcomers were very startled with him and he asked about that. Amand spoke for the first time. “You are very strong sir. Like an alpha but you are an omega. The other as well. We've never met powerful omegas before.” 

Sherlock preened quietly but Mycroft just tilted his head and considered his words. “The pack you have just become a part of began with a single bite shared by Sherlock and John. They were changed by Mother.” The new wolves gasped and gaped in turn. John could smell the iron hard thread of pain shimmer just a bit, become thinner and fainter. Something else was edging into their collective scent. It was pride.

The weeks that followed were hectic and happy. The newcomers were tended and coddled incessantly, their omega status triggering everyone to instinctively look after them. Greg loved to spend time just visiting with them, his affable character always paired with Mycroft's frosty observations. Both men spent as much time as they could with the new wolves, explaining the purpose of Baskerville, assessing each one carefully.

A late dinner with John and Sherlock had Mycroft reporting news that was both troubling and heartening. “All of them are traumatize. Their entire association with Iakov has been brutal. They've been kept in a compound for decades. They don't mind staying in Baskerville because they have more freedom here roaming our few halls than they've ever known the entire time they've been wolves! They're happy here.”

More than ever did John's pack see the need for drastic change. Wolves needed to think differently, react differently, survive differently! The old ways were destroying them one wolf at a time. The end of the entire species was very possible. Timothy had been only too happy to submit to Sherlock's observations. The omega seemed very young, barely a man. He was nearly as old as Titania but he bubbled happily when he got to see his baby for the first time, clutching at Sherlock's arm ecstatically. Sherlock was finding out as much as he could about male omega biology. Timothy was confused at first when Sherlock asked permission and unintentionally used Sherlock's title, “Khan, I am yours to do with as you wish. If you wanted to carve the child from my body I could not stop you. Iakov's doctors were very rude, not kind and patient like you are.”

Ethan could not stop an amused snort from escaping him when Timothy called Sherlock kind and patient. Sherlock on the other hand wanted to retch again when he heard of the casual violence done to these omegas. Unless their brain was destroyed or their heart cleaved in two they would not die. How many indignities had this group recovered from. Suddenly Sherlock looked at Timothy. “How many children have you had.”

Timothy's eyes filled with tears and Sherlock regretted his impulsive question. “Five Sherlock. I had five. This is number six.” Six children and no way to find out where the other five went. Sherlock put his hand on Timothy's arm.

“This one will be yours and yours alone. I promise.” Timothy nodded and Sherlock awkwardly patted his arm before removing his hand. He scowled at Ethan who was giving him a fond smile. “Shut up.”

Sherlock stormed out. He wasn't mad at Ethan or Timothy. He was outraged at what had happened to them. Of course avaricious and moral-less scum like Vuk or Iakov would have realized what a resource these children would be. All of them would be born guaranteed the three big rewards given in exchange for not ever being able to become werewolves. Beauty, long life, and increased intelligence. A powerful inducement for families unable to produce their own heirs. Properly trained omegas wouldn't be able to resist their alpha's demands forever. Eventually they would agree to breed as all of Iakov's omegas had done. Sidney was their caregiver, barely trained midwife and overall support system. They were all close and many nights found them all sleeping in a heap on the floor of one of their apartments. No one objected. It kept them calm and happy.

Sherlock found himself grateful that Iakov had challenged them even if it had meant killing Mary. Sherlock hadn't enjoyed doing it. It had to be done so he did it. It wasn't something to be proud of. Killing was simple, a brute response. Werewolves needed to be better than that. It was as if the best qualities of wolves were being crippled by the worst tendencies of man. Sherlock wondered about that.

Sherlock wandered the facility lost in thought. He did this frequently and everyone had learned to let him be. Sherlock stroked his over flat belly as he walked. He never realized he did it but John had noticed. Sherlock wanted children but he couldn't reconcile himself to watching them grow old and fade while their parents remained eternal. Until he fixed this Sherlock would never bear the child he dearly wanted. He'd had an idea and was working through the possible repercussions as he walked. When he was ready he'd begin the next phase of research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is now about to go into hyper-drive. I've had a goal but needed to lay the foundations which I hope I have managed adequately. Expect a little bit of time traveling as we move into the future.
> 
> I love and am inspired by comments, although I know the shape of my story it's not set in stone. Who knows which comment will spark the next thread?


	11. The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has passed and things have changed at Baskerville. What are our wolves up to now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many lovely people have commented about this fic and I have to say all of you have contributed to keeping it going. I thank you and all the coffee providers within reach of me thank you as well.
> 
> moonwings - you asked for a little favor, here you go love

John was tired. The meetings never seemed to end. Baskerville had global ties now thanks to Mycroft and it was John's responsibility to take meetings even if he didn't want to. He was the king and he couldn't say no. John closed his eyes and reached out for his mate. He found him in the labs yet again, today cheery and optimistic as he worked on his latest experiment. Things had really progressed for Sherlock once he had a staff trained to his rather unrealistic requirements. It had taken years but Ethan now supervised Ian, Timothy, Amand and Mai as the wolves worked tirelessly on solving The Problem.

Mycroft and Greg were still abroad on their latest junket. Their machinations in the world of international politics was murky at best. John let them do as they wished. It was just easier to tell himself that they were just on another vacation than it was to contemplate the kind of games their pups played. John wandered around the facility wondering which task to take on next. Titania appeared at his elbow. She had become Mycroft's new Anthea, her small frame exquisitely and formally dressed at all times. All she needed was a ladylike umbrella of her own and she could be Mycroft's perfect copy.

John was happy for her. The job she did sat well with her natural diplomatic inclinations. She looked well. The years had softened the ragged edge of all the wolves who had joined the London wolves that first year. There was one small mar. John wasn't too happy at the moniker that he couldn't shake, the one Isabella had told them about. The Hounds. They were the Hounds of Baskerville. Maudlin AND inaccurate. They weren't hounds! Still after all this time the name had already taken on a certain gravitas. It helped with the kinging he was forced to do.

John decided to go through the school. That always energized him. There was something about being mugged by knee high attention hogs that just made his day. With a lighter heart John made his way through the facility. Patrick smiled as John arrived in the brightly colored and heavily toyed pre-school. His wedding ring glinted cheerfully on his finger. The marriage between John's assistant and Sidney was considered inevitable by all the other wolves in their pack. The two betas had been thrown together time and time again as their respective packs integrated. Their natural drive to care for the omegas combined with Patrick and Sidney receiving the same medical training had set the couple up for the predictable romance.

John looked around. All the kids were here. There were five now. At a dignified six years of age Delta, as she was still known as, ruled the mob with an iron fist. Kysa and Ina were joined by Mai's dark haired Li and Timothy's flame haired son Jacob. Amand and Timothy were still very close but the relationship John and everyone assumed was sexual was very much not. As omegas neither Amand or Timothy could breed with one another. Instead they had developed a sympathetic bond with their friend and were more like twins than they were lovers. Any alpha mate that took one would have to take the other. They would not be separated and no one at Baskerville ever required them to be. John was immediately swarmed by small sticky creatures. “Change! Wolf rides wolf rides!”

John obediently shifted and tolerantly let the kids ride him back and forth across the padded floor. He loved their excited little giggles and their fake fearful screams as they slipped off his back and thumped to the floor. John ignored little hands that tugged his fur too tight or twisted his tail at just the wrong spot. In the end he was pinned to the floor by fat chubby bodies as everyone tried to sit on him at the same time. Sherlock swept in and roared, “You offend your king!” in a dreadful voice.

The kids laughed and ran to jump all over Sherlock who shifted the second the last word rang from his lips. Sherlock's legs appeared to move fast as he ran very slowly across the room, letting the little ones chase and catch him over and over again. Little laughs rang out and everyone smiled. Allowing himself to be tripped up Sherlock sprawled out on the floor and changed back into a man while the kids shrieked and fell all over him. John shifted as well, sitting on the floor and laughing hard. Mycroft and Greg walked in.

“Back so soon?” asked John. They didn't answer. They just snarled savagely and jumped into the crowd of screaming children, landing on all four feet as a pair of wolves. Clearly outnumbered the huge werewolves were easily subdued by the toddlers and lay under the sticky pile up graciously. Greg licked Delta's face wetly. “Bad dog! No licking. Naughty naughty!” she shook her little finger at Greg. He licked it and she squealed with fake outrage. “I tell on you. Mycroft! Greg is being bad!” Mycroft shifted back and managed to look elegant as he sat on the floor. He looked at Greg reprovingly. “Keep your germs to yourself!” Greg shifted back, grinning.

“She tastes like ice-cream.” Delta whacked Greg on the arm and made a show of wiping the saliva off her hand. “Give us a hug and a kiss, we can't play all day like some people. Myc and I have lots of work to do and we need to talk to the others.” The children swarmed again like the tiny pack they were and doled out kisses and squeezes to the grown-ups before they left. Greatly heartened John retreated to their conference room with the rest. The reports were many but necessary. 

Baskerville had changed greatly in the last several years. The vast majority of it was utilized for The Problem but a portion of it had been dedicated to what Greg kept calling the Cash Cow. Mycroft had overseen the development of various commercially viable products that he and Greg now sold all over the world to large manufactories and research centers. It was the bit of their world that kept them solvent. They needed to make the products for their own use at Baskerville so it had been simple enough to just make more and sell the excess. They were very successful.

They had set up an education center. The werewolf school wasn't just for the babes. They were in the pre-school. A whole floor of Baskerville was now a proper school for werewolves of any age. They couldn't house everyone so bit at a time they had purchased properties in all the surrounding villages through dummy businesses that Mycroft set up until they owned everything for miles around. They settled the mostly human families in the houses there, trained them up to step naturally into different jobs as the opportunities arose and kept all the werewolves safely inside the facility walls during the full moon. 

The problem of teachers had been solved by Mrs Hudson who knew bus-loads of retired teachers, librarians, and other professionals. All of them had outlived families and friends and had thought to fade away quietly. Instead they'd been recruited and relocated. All of them were more than happy to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Their new jobs included 100% medical coverage with their paycheck, very nice senior friendly accommodations but most importantly they had purpose.

Mycroft and Sherlock had designed the curriculum and it was challenging, unique and very successful. Both men had begun with the premise that nobody understood anything, broke their first lessons into the tiniest of digestible pieces and built an entire program that escalated gradually. By the time promising students made it to the far side of their re-education werewolves who could manage it would be able to enter nearly any profession they desired.

That was the goal. Every single werewolf trained to be the best at whatever they were naturally good at. Like Patrick. He was born to be a nurse, he excelled at it. The beta had flourished during his training, developed self-confidence and esteem for himself. He felt good doing his work and that made his pack happy.

Everyone was doing well. Siofra had become an expert in laws and had spent a lot of time since the beginning working on her book of werewolf laws. She reasoned that if it were ever accepted as canon by all werewolves then the book certainly deserved a lot of careful thought. Laws were tricky things and werewolf lives were long. Accommodations needed to be made.

Ilva was a flat out genius. When she had finally caught up with the maths she needed to know she had blown away her new friends at CERN. She had a way of thinking about problems that excited them nearly as much as her very womanly looks. Ilva was now helping design and brainstorm projects for people who worked at what was once known as NASA. John couldn't remember what the American Space program was calling itself these days. The Americans were developing a deep exploration program and had several new designs on their tables for space-ships that would take real living people further from earth than any had gone before. The program was being based on a sister project from Japan which involved some kind of deep sleep chambers so the astronauts could be kept on ice until they were revived at some far off destination. Several of the components required for both projects were made right here in Baskerville.

After the dramatic showdown with Iakov and Mary all those years ago the last of the makers had finally appeared to visit their pups. As John had expected most of them were contemptible. All had sold their progeny for one reason or another to either Vuk or Iakov. There had been no law against it at the time, no real law for werewolves against it now so there wasn't much John could do except show them how little he thought of their actions. All of them formally released any claims they might have had on any present or future children the omegas bore. Most wolves feared John and Sherlock until they met. By the time most first meetings were done a wolf either was completely devoted to the pair or quietly determined to never cross them out of sheer terror.

The destruction of Iakov had a domino affect throughout the werewolf world. Omegas and betas worked together to escape alphas who were cruel or oppressive, other alphas stepped forward to bravely protect the newly liberated and slowly werewolves everywhere were reclaiming their dignity and pride as a species. The child market that Vuk finally confessed to and that Iakov had profited from had completely ceased as it related to werewolves. It frustrated everyone at Baskerville but they couldn't stop human trafficking across the globe.

Vuk. He was a continuing problem. He still lived in confinement away from every other wolf but he didn't want to make friends, after the first year he ceased making trouble completely and now mostly just wasted his days away watching TV. John was troubled by it. He didn't really want to keep Vuk forever. John wasn't about to allow him to become an ongoing experiment either. John wondered over and over again if just letting him go would be the best idea.

Their pack was doing well and as a whole their influence had been nothing but positive for wolves everywhere. John should have felt satisfied but he didn't. There was still The Problem to solve. Since Sherlock became fertile four years ago and Mycroft two both men had been even more dedicated than ever to figuring out exactly what it was that kept a delta child from being turned. Their research had been very focused and, without actually solving the problem, very successful as well. They had all the parts to the solution. Mycroft and Sherlock were sure of it. Making them meet somehow in a delta fetus, that was the problem.

John and Patrick had immersed themselves in intense training before Timothy birthed. They researched and became familiar with every known technique available to deal with delivering babies. With Sherlock and Ethan they mapped Timothy's being completely and charted every single development as they happened. Timothy enjoyed the attention very much.

It was bitter every full moon for Sherlock to forbid his body from doing what it craved to do which was conceive. He'd wept the first few times and there had been nothing John could do to comfort his mate. Sherlock was less in control of his emotions now that the womb in his belly had matured. His body chemistry had significantly altered, the markers that named him male now joined by a strange female component. Sherlock's natural androgyny was exacerbated by the flood of new hormones. For Sherlock Timothy's pregnancy had been revelatory. To see how the male body could be so subtly adapted to make the process even possible had thrown Sherlock's mind into a spin.

It turned out that male omega's reproductive organs were significantly different than those of a female which were identical more or less to a human woman's. Male omegas resembled birds more than wolves when it came to their wombs. The entire organ manifested in the same location as a woman, the ovaries and other parts generally similar. It was the long tube of rubbery connective tissue that was different. Having no vagina to attach to it exited the only location possible. Sherlock hadn't been happy about that. Timothy laughed. “It's odd certainly but the only time I had trouble was the first time and only because I'd panicked.”

Indeed when it came time for delivery a month after Mai Timothy had been almost cheery. He labored with good heart, sweating his way up and down the room with Amand clutching his hand devotedly. The room was a bit full since Sherlock needed to watch and so did Mycroft, Patrick was necessary and so was John. Sidney attended as well. Even with the crowd though and some indiscreet filming by Sherlock everyone witnessed Timothy pass little Jacob painfully into the world. His body was open and deflated looking when it was all done but hour by hour it pulled itself back together. By the next day you couldn't tell that he'd been pregnant at all, that he'd ever once been pregnant. His breasts were a little puffy as he nursed his child but apart from that Timothy just looked like a regular man albeit one with a baby on his nipple. Sherlock felt better then worse. He wanted a baby more than ever by then.

Right now John needed a break from everything. He nodded to Sherlock and both of them left. If anything urgent came up the their pups would come find them. At the moment John needed to stretch his legs and get some air. Leaving the building the wolves ran over the moors together, racing along as fast as they could merely to enjoy the powerful surge of speed they were able to produce. They made it to the far end of the moor where the brush became scrubbier and the rest of the world seemed to not exist. Finding a convenient nook in the rocks they flopped down together to rest. “This is just what I needed.” sighed John silently. Sherlock's thoughts agreed with him. The omega draped himself over his alpha possessively and John sighed again. “I like being able to just breath it all in.” he said and let his head flop back to look at the stars.

Sherlock grew still. John could feel his mate's mind race, his thoughts churn madly. Shifting into his human form Sherlock stared down at John with an incredulous look on his face. “John. That's it. That's exactly it! You are BRILLIANT!” In a blink Sherlock shifted back and raced ecstatically across the moor while John chased after him, more than a little confused.

“How am I brilliant? Sherlock! Hey!” John had to actually exert a little of his will to draw Sherlock back to him. The wolf scampered and leapt about in excitement. “Breathing it all in John. Expose the mother to the correct elements at the right time. Lungs tie directly into the bloodstream, the womb filters in what it needs, long term exposure to the right elements at the right time and the fetus changes. It's so simple! How did we not think of this?” Sherlock was tearing around in mad circles barking and yipping with glee.

John's butt hit the ground with a thud. Sherlock had solved the problem. Yes it would need further investigation and testing but John was sure Sherlock had solved it. They could have children! John raced after Sherlock, both men snapping happily at one another as they rejoiced.

There were no end of volunteers, especially among the older alpha/omega couples they had met. Many of them had experienced exactly what Sherlock had feared, watching their babies grow up and then fade with age while their grieving parents continued endlessly. No one wanted that if it could be prevented. Most felt that any risk was worthwhile if it meant keeping their children alive. Baskerville soon became filled to near bursting with pregnant omegas at every stage of conception.

Mycroft and Sherlock focused exclusively on producing the mix required. They used Sherlock's venom since it had long since proven the most potent, even more than John's. The scientist had harvested venom from wolves all over the world and by comparison all if it seemed watered down. The pack had a bit of a surprise when they offered to turn Mrs Hudson and she accepted. Sherlock had done the honors and everyone watched in amazement as she grew younger and younger with every passing month. Six months into it Mrs Hudson appeared to Sherlock exactly as she had when he had first met her so many long years ago. She was a sassy brown and red wolf, her white markings and lined eyes making her look so much like her human self that everyone laughed in delight. Mrs Hudson was pleased to learn that her herbal soothers were still very, very soothing and enjoyed her regenerated body very much. It seemed that she had caught Ian's eye and since Mrs Hudson was a beta there really wasn't any reason for them not to date. Ian was older than her by a lot even if at present it seemed the other way around.

Sherlock had carefully harvested a large quantity of venom over the years and had amassed more than enough for the upcoming project. In gaseous form Sherlock only needed a fraction of a single bite's worth of venom for each application. Everything else was commonly available and easily obtained, normal everyday gases breathed in and exhaled all over the place. John tried to understand the process but he just couldn't quite grasp more than the essentials of it. Even Greg couldn't explain it. When the man merged with his omega he saw what they were doing but when they separated Greg was lost for words to explain it to John. John oversaw the setup of a special wing with scrubbers on the air filters to keep the mix from escaping the building. They made everything as air tight as they could to maximize the positive effects for the expectant mothers. Testing was ready to begin.

 

Mrs Hudson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a fair grasp of the sciences while at the same time specializing in nothing. I understand the theory basically but I can't show my work. I have thought out the problem of werewolf conception, the whole issue of delta children and have come up with what I hope you found to be a workable solution. Time is going to start jumping now. While I could and would love to detail each day of their long lives I feel dying of old age before you get to the end of a story is probably not very satisfying.
> 
> For things I have no awareness of I totally faked it. Roll with it.


	12. The Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baskerville has one focus now. The Experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dilvin - this is for you. I hope you like it.

The facility was securely locked down. Everyone not an alpha or omega had relocated for the last three days as the full moon made it's appearance. Echoes of howls had floated endlessly through the corridors as mating pairs responded to their primal urges, each locked away in the privacy of their own suites.

John was chasing Sherlock through one room after another in theirs. Barking and nipping at one another the couple frolicked and flirted with one another playfully. Both were deliriously happy and there was nothing to be done for it but express that joy. Tongues lolling out they raced around madly, nails screeching on floors as they tried to navigate tight corners at high speeds. Sherlock was always the most agile and did amazing leaps using the walls and door frames as he went along. John however could turn on a dime and never ceased to surprise Sherlock with his swift reactions.

Finally though John trapped Sherlock in their bedroom, pausing just long enough at the door to nudge it shut before lunging at his omega. Sherlock had to leap backward to avoid him, distancing himself from the door before he could slip past it as it closed. It clicked satisfyingly shut and John's mouth grinned as only a wolf's mouth could. Sherlock would either have to submit or lose the game by shifting back into a man to get the door open.

Sherlock chose to shift but instead of dashing for the door to continue the game he let himself lean back on the wall. He undid one button at a time slowly, just calmly loosing one after the other to bare his chest and stomach. The tall man watched the sturdy wolf by the door, his eyes moving over the animal appreciatively. When his shirt had fallen all the way open Sherlock pressed his hand to his belly and began to slide it slowly upward. He stroked over his chest before letting his fingers wander up his throat and over his mouth. Sherlock licked his fingers.

John shifted quickly. Each step he took toward his mate left him a little more naked as he pulled off everything that covered him. When he finally reached Sherlock John was already bare. “I win.” he said softly before kissing Sherlock's waiting mouth. The omega leaned forward into it, his long slender arms wrapping tight around John's upper body to hold him close. John let his hands ride slowly over Sherlock's hips to make their way up his back until he was stroking the edges of Sherlock's shoulder  
blades.

“I win too.” whispered Sherlock as their kiss eventually ended. He nuzzled John's face, kissing the ridges of his brows before rubbing his cheek against John's neatly trimmed hair. Sherlock trembled in John's arms, momentarily overwhelmed by the sudden surge of arousal he could scent in the air. John wanted him. It made the younger man's knees weak and for a moment John was holding him up.

John nipped at Sherlock's chest, the pain offsetting the haze of arousal that was already beginning to cloud Sherlock's normally over-active mind. “Get undressed Sherlock. Make it nice for me.” John stepped back and lay himself on his side so he could watch Sherlock from the bed. The tall dark haired man continued to unclothe himself. He didn't need to do much. John liked the way Sherlock did things just normally so while he did move a bit slower Sherlock simply got undressed. John nearly salivated.

Sherlock's body never failed to arouse in John a sense of wonder. The doctor allowed his eyes to drink in the long elegant lines, the subtle curves, the pristine expanse of snowy flesh. The man had changed a little bit over the last few years but from what John could see every single thing was nothing if not more beautiful than it had been before. Sherlock was mouthwateringly gorgeous.

He wore his hair a little longer now, the curls springing about gaily sometimes. His walk was a little sultrier, his manner a little more flirtatious. Sherlock had a fire inside him now and it showed. John admired the curves that flowed just a hint more than they used to. Knowing his lover very well Sherlock turned himself to the wall before bending over to pull off his socks. Socks shouldn't be so sexy, pulling them off your feet should not be so sexy but John couldn't take enough in. He could see between the cleft of Sherlock's magnificently distracting ass, see his thumb hook carelessly into the top of the sock to tug it off. John's cock hardened as he watched. “You've gotten more perverted as time has passed.” remarked Sherlock casually.

“Says the man who had to buy a storage case for his whip collection.” said John, his eyes never once leaving Sherlock's ass. He rather enjoyed the crops and whips. Having Sherlock splayed out in front of him, his body criss-crossed with reddened welts? Beautiful. John looked at Sherlock some more. “I like the way you move. What you're doing at the time isn't the point.”

“What if I vacuumed?” suggested Sherlock with a laugh. John joined him. Both of them tried to picture that and failed.

“I would immediately assume you had finally found a modern drug that worked and were high as shit to be doing something as mundane as vacuuming. Do you even remember the last time you did a chore around here?” Sherlock blushed a little and looked crest-fallen which made John feel bad. He was ruining the moment!

“I'm sorry John. I'm not a very good mate am I. I haven't spent any time here with you lately unless it's nearly time for bed.” John had never had any intention of mentioning it. He didn't love it but what Sherlock was doing meant so much to both of them, a little lost time was a price John was willing to pay. John lifted an arm and Sherlock flew to the bed to snuggle close to his alpha, their foreplay forgotten. John petted his omega, silently apologizing for even hinting that Sherlock was anything but perfect. Slowly the omega settled down. John reminded himself yet again to be extra tender with Sherlock right now. On moon days Sherlock's emotions were extremely fragile.

John kissed his lover until the smile came back, both of them rolling around happily as they roughhoused and kissed. Both men felt their temperature spike at the same time. Sherlock clutched John tight and for a moment he looked panicked. John squeezed Sherlock as hard as he could and watched as the blues and greens of Sherlock's eyes shimmered and turned silver. “John.” breathed Sherlock, his voice breathy and urgent.

There were no more games now. John felt his flesh respond, smelled the readiness of his mate. Niceties forgotten John licked his way up the crack of Sherlock's ass, tasting the slick that now waited for him. His mate was ready. There was no finesse, no give and take as they teased each other to the heights. This was pure instinct now. John's eyes dilated until they were black and colorless as Sherlock's mating call completely controlled him.

Sherlock had put himself on his hands and knees, spread low and wide for John. John appreciated the ease of access as he lined himself up and entered his husband. Sherlock was wet, dripping wet. His body was ready and each month during their heat Sherlock had begun to produce a clear fluid that acted as a lubricant. The omega felt different inside as well. He was hot, textured somehow and so fucking good to fuck that now John did. This was the last day of the moon and John wasn't about to waste a minute of it.

Sherlock moaned and writhed as John took him roughly. Both men were weary but the drives of nature had no care for that. Instead nature spurred them on to unite as many times as they could. John had lost count of the waves that had taken them. These days the waves came faster, were of shorter duration but the ferocity of their desire for one another had only escalated. Their enhanced bodies recovered again and again not just from the exhaustion that threatened but from the plentiful abrasions, scratches and on two occasions, minor rib fractures. John felt Sherlock's body grown tight and he gasped, “Now! Now!”

Both their bodies shuddered as John shoved himself as deep as he could. They fell forward so John was laying directly on Sherlock's back, his hips driving inward as he repeatedly emptied massive amounts of sperm deep into Sherlock's desperate body. Both men groaned and panted their way through another shattering orgasm, locked together tight, their bodies wanting to unite in as many ways as possible.

John held Sherlock, already stroking his hands up and down his mate's arms to comfort him. Reluctantly John pulled back and saw the spill of rejected seed begin to flood onto the absorbent pad beneath them. As soon as he could Sherlock curled up tight into a little ball and struggled to contain the wracks of tears that also once again threatened. “Sherlock. I love you my darling, I love you.” John removed the mess and cleaned them both up. Sherlock stayed balled up and John could feel his mate's heartache mirror his own. “It won't be forever Sherlock. We're close. You're close.”

This just made Sherlock lose his tenuous control. Helplessly he unballed himself only to bury his face in a pillow to cry wretchedly. John was at his back in a flash, curling himself around Sherlock and holding him. John radiated love and tenderness, trying to provide some kind of comfort to his omega. “I want it so much John! You can't understand. Every molecule of my body is screaming for it. Your body isn't doing that to you! Mine is doing it to me and I can't help myself. I want it!”

John let Sherlock weep piteously for as long as he needed. This wasn't the time to try and make light of the situation. John's bond with Sherlock wouldn't allow him to let Sherlock keep hurting if he could stop it but there was nothing John could do. Not yet. Soon but not soon enough for this month.

The testing started. There was very little hope for the first omegas at the most advanced stages of pregnancy. The six mothers understood that their babies might receive some enhancement from the exposure but it wasn't likely. Still mother after mother insisted that they be allowed to at least try and Sherlock had agreed. Each month that had passed had produced one wave of children after another. None had been affected and Sherlock's despair grew.

They hadn't lost hope, not a bit of it. It was far too early to assume Sherlock wasn't right. He'd always thought the brief exposure needed to happen very early in the pregnancy but that meant waiting nearly nine whole months before he could even know if he was right. Each following month since the experiment had started saw Sherlock's need to deny conception become a growing emotional battlefield for him. He wanted children. Specifically he wanted John's children and waiting wasn't something Sherlock had ever been good at. Being a werewolf hadn't changed that.

Eventually Sherlock grew quiet and still. John kept holding him, kept stroking his arms evenly, kept breathing calmly. Heaving a shuddering sigh Sherlock turned in John's arms to face him, his own long limbs twining around his alpha gratefully. “I'm okay now John.”

“I know you are darling.” John kissed Sherlock's head tenderly and continued to hold him, letting Sherlock's face press against his neck where John's scent was strongest. Sherlock grew calm now and nuzzled John gently. “Can we get up? I'd like to wash now.”

Sherlock stood in the shower while John stripped the bed. After it was remade John joined his husband to clean themselves up. The heat was nearly over. There might be one more wave left in Sherlock but from what John could smell it wasn't likely. He scrubbed his omega all over thoroughly, playfully adding far too much shower gel to their flannel so Sherlock ended up being covered in a thick layer of suds. Sherlock rolled his eyes and with exaggerated patience allowed John to rinse him off. After they got out John toweled Sherlock off and helped him into a long clingy robe before he himself dried off and pulled on his old favorite terry cloth.

As it was the last day John did what he tried to do every month. He spoiled Sherlock. John made his omega tea, set out a small plate of Sherlock's favorite nibbles, let him flip through the channels on the telly to yell at commentators and generally spent the rest of the day coddling the man ridiculously. John rubbed Sherlock's feet after he did his shoulders, made him a finicky snack of tiny sandwiches and a chocolaty dessert, all of which John hand fed to the now nearly purring Sherlock. John absolutely loved it. He loved fussing and fawning over Sherlock and Sherlock loved to be fussed and fawned over by John. They really loved each other.

“How much longer.” It was safe to ask now. John knew that Sherlock needed to talk it out, let his frustrations and impatience some free reign before they took control. John already knew all the answers but Sherlock replied immediately.

“Three more months. The last group will be due then. So far there have been no changes in any of the new children.” Three more heats. Three more times at least when Sherlock had to say no, had to will himself to not accept the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. John privately worried for his mate. Sherlock was raw inside. He needed a distraction, something to take the edge off but John hadn't found anything adequate so far. Sherlock was too focused, too committed to be easily swayed. He spent every waking hour either experimenting or monitoring the numerous mothers and even the new babies. 

They'd found homes for each new expectant family somewhere close by and the pre-school had swelled and multiplied as small siblings of the new babies joined the toddler Hounds at Baskerville. Delta absolutely loved it. She ruled like a queen, ordering all the children around imperiously. Patrick found it entertaining to point out that Delta acted very much like Sherlock, swirling around dramatically and giving pointed stares to children who didn't listen sharply enough. Delta organized games, settled disputes, made sure the smaller kids got to the bathrooms on time and pretty much made Patrick's entire day as she worked busily ruling her kingdom. Sherlock said she behaved more like John. Everyone agreed and Titania glowed with pride for her daughter.

All the children were brilliant. All of them were lovely and talented. There was never a problem with colds or sniffles and apart from occasional sad tummies from eating too much all the children were perfectly healthy all of the time. Sherlock was entranced and with all the rest of the Hounds they spent a part of every day visiting and playing with the children. John decided that tomorrow when all of them returned he and Sherlock would spend the entire afternoon there. It would sooth Sherlock's impatience and allow him to actually enjoy the anticipation of success. It would work. John believed in Sherlock.

Mycroft and Greg were incredibly successful with the children. The omega always managed to maintain his stiff decorum even as he did puppet shows with the ex-DI and even played dress-up using the giant trunk of mismatched clothing discards that had been painted, glittered, stamped and glued several times for various reasons. John had noticed that Mycroft didn't suffer the way Sherlock did as the months slowly went by. “My little brother has always been very sensitive. I am not. I do crave children but unlike Sherlock I can wait patiently. I know it will happen therefore I feel no urgency. We have hundreds of years in front of us. These months are fleeting.”

Sherlock didn't see things that way. For him time was one endless second after another, each minute ticking by with glacial slowness as his mind whirled and puzzled and took apart the universe. Sherlock had been remarkable before he had changed but now as a werewolf in an uninhibited environment Sherlock was finally coming into his own. He was a strong powerful omega with the mental capacity and physical endurance unmatched by any except his immediate pack. Sherlock finally enjoyed being unusual, above the norm, the exception. His awkwardness in society had always been difficult for the strange young man but as Khan all Sherlock needed to do was be himself. The wolves respected that and Sherlock's confidence in himself grew.

It meant running as many experiments as he could conjure up for as long as he wanted. It meant bossing people around and expecting to get his way all the time which he did. It meant telling people what they didn't want to hear but had to so he did that too. It meant seeing more than anyone else saw, making astounding leaps forward as he put together unrelated factors to make the answers visible. It meant allowing his mind to range as freely as it wished while John cheered in the background, reveling in the magnificence of his omega.

It meant that Sherlock's mind churned and raced at a speed that he never could have fathomed when he was still human. It meant that now he saw not only the clues but the very molecular makeup of everything around him as he constantly analyzed and cataloged the world. Every blink of Sherlock's eyes delivered gigabytes of data to be shunted and stored in his ever growing mind palace. It meant that Sherlock was fiercely aware of every second of every minute because he was aware of everything all the time. He had no time for patience, to wait till later. Right now was almost too much to handle never mind a distant future. Only John could shut it off, make it still. Only John made hours tolerable, days manageable, months and years enjoyable. Sherlock snuggled into his alpha and was grateful.

 

* *

The last baby had been born slightly after midnight on a Saturday over two months ago. Both mother and child, a little girl, were doing well and living in one of the suites in the facility with the rest of the mothers. The wolves had instinctively formed a community of parents, keeping their babies safely together in the nursery as parents organized themselves in shifts to take turns tending the large group. All of them were content and happy.

John was holding Sherlock on the bed as the omega once again wept bitterly. None of the children were different. Not one of them. The last test group had failed to produce a single werewolf child, not one baby held any of the blood markers unique to werewolves. Sherlock was devastated and even Mycroft had locked himself away with Gregory to mourn. The experiment had failed. The first batch of children were over eleven months old now. Baskerville had ground to a standstill, going through the motions of busyness but only to make those endless minutes of sadness pass the tiniest bit faster.

Sherlock had stopped working. Ethan had taken over the laboratories. Some of the experiments weren't done, some had different targets, some weren't even a part of the experiment. Sherlock didn't care. He just didn't. He locked himself away in his suite with John and refused to see anyone, not even Mrs Hudson. Mycroft was only slightly better. Titania was required to step in with the rest of their pack to cover the many duties now disregarded as their leaders suffered. All of them were gentle and supportive of the wolves from London, their scent always filled with love and sadness as they let their leaders grieve.

John had been crushed but he couldn't let himself focus on his own pain when Sherlock was so absolutely destroyed. He'd refuse to have children ever now. John could sense it. Sherlock didn't need to say anything. They would live and love together for endless centuries but they would never light that spark between them, never allow their flesh to twine together and fruit. Never would they hold in their arms the cumulation of their love, the most precious gift they could give one another. Day after day had been the same since the last birth, listless apathy mixed with heartbroken tears. Tonight had been especially bad. John held Sherlock tighter.

“We should go back to London. Spend some time at Baker Street.” suggested John. Sherlock's tears slowly dried and John felt him shrug slightly. The suggestion was being considered so John waited. Sherlock thought about it. He was incredibly sad about his failure but John was beside him and that was always good. Sherlock was happy with John so perhaps in time this sorrow would pass and they could resume life and laughter the way they'd once done. 221 Baker Street was always good for Sherlock, still the haven of choice even if Mrs Hudson no longer lived there. 

“I think that's a good idea John. I need to get away from here for a while. We haven't gone on an actual vacation in years. We should go someplace, maybe someplace warm.” John nodded and Sherlock sniffled against his shirt. Sherlock didn't like crying. He hated it in fact. He hated being overwhelmed with feelings, to have his eyes and his nose leak in the most undignified way. He hated the weepy sounds he made, how pitiful it was. John always bore it stoically, offering tissues when needed and never commenting on how Sherlock looked.

They were startled by a pounding at the door. Patrick. He was shouting. “John! John you have to come. You have to come right now. Bring Sherlock. Ethan has gone to get Mycroft and Greg. COME ON OPEN THE DOOR!” he rattled the knob. John and Sherlock ran to their suite door in their pajamas and yanked it open. Patrick grabbed both their hands, tugging them hard. “COME ON LET'S GO!”

Patrick ran away! John and Sherlock raced after him barefoot and filled with anxiety. John tried to call out to his assistant but Patrick refused to say anything until they got to the nursery. The beta pushed the door open and almost forced the men through. His voice was a hushed whisper now, “Look.”

There were six small cribs lined up in a row. Three blue and three pink. The first children to be born from the experiment. Sherlock and John stepped forward and looked. In each warm crib wrapped warmly in soft blankets was a tiny puppy. They were plump and fuzzy with small floppy ears and little snubbed muzzles. Their little eyes squeezed shut as their sides heaved up and down, snuffling their way through little puppy dreams.

John's voice was filled with awe. “Sherlock. Oh my god Sherlock! It worked. On all of them oh my god Sherlock you did it! What happened?”

Time. All it had taken was time. The babies were over eleven months old. Twelve moons. They were a year old and they had changed. Every baby from the experiment was a potential success. All they had needed to do was wait until twelve moons passed after their birth. Sherlock swayed and nearly fell. The experiment was not a failure. He had not failed! They could have children. They could have children as soon as the next full moon! Sherlock was overwhelmed, nearly ready to cry again except that Mycroft and Greg ran in with Ethan.

John and Sherlock stepped silently aside. The two men peered into the cribs, both men gasped in shocked surprise and stepped back in tandem. They were blended at the moment. They turned to Sherlock and as one they embraced him. “Little brother. You did it. You did it!” Patrick hustled them out of the nursery. The other babies were beginning to move as too many scents filled the air. Sherlock didn't want to leave the puppies behind but Patrick forced them out of the room anyway. 

Every hugged in the hallway, rejoicing with one another. Mycroft and Sherlock clung together before realizing who was in their arms and rejected each other coldly. Sherlock hugged John immediately as if to rid himself of the sensation of just having been openly affectionate with his brother. They were being approached by a group of distressed looking parents. The leader, a woman named Tanis who had birthed the very first little boy in the experiment looked at Sherlock. “Are they alright? What happened! What's wrong!”

John hastened to reassure them, radiating happiness and joy. “Nothing is wrong. Absolutely nothing. It worked. Janet! Go look. Look at Thomas.” The parents filed in and several minutes later filed out again, their faces covered in joyful tears. They hugged Sherlock tight and praised him in hushed voices. No one wanted to wake up a room full of sleeping babies. Eventually it occurred to them to just go to their meeting room. They did and once the door was shut everyone shrieked and danced around. They'd saved the children. All the children. All of them.

The news raced through Baskerville. Parents wept everywhere as they understood that these children, these special lucky children would live long healthy lives, that their loving parents could watch their little ones grow up and go on with their own lives, have children of their own and never know the sorrow of seeing age take them away. They had Sherlock and Mycroft to thank and so they did. The crowd in the room grew more and more packed as wolves came to offer their thanks and gratitude. There was hope in faces once again, the whole facility seemed to bubble to life once more as it was re-energized with hope. 

There were other pregnant werewolves out in the world, wolves who thought they had missed their opportunity or weren't able to make it to Baskerville before the experiment began. They needed to get here, to receive the treatment before they birthed. Tanis had been at the very heavy end of her pregnancy, delivering only days after her exposure. It was time to make plans.

 

 

Success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah! We all know what's going to happen next, don't we? This is what happens when you feed me suggestions. I have a whole long story already growing but these little touches are for all of you.
> 
> I think I'll go howl around for a while and then get the next bit done.


	13. Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiment was a success! Time for waiting is over.

The rapping at the door became more urgent but Sherlock would not be moved. No one could make him move. It just wasn't happening. He ignored the insistent knocking and just focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Rap rap rap rap rap. In. Out. In. Out. All Sherlock needed to do was breath. Calmly breath. 

RAP RAP RAP RAP RAP.

Oh god.

With a loud wet gurgle Sherlock's head was once again deep in the toilet as he tried unsuccessfully to throw his breakfast up one more time. It didn't work but his body gave it another shot just to make sure. It sounded revolting, as if every rude bodily function had decided to write a little song together and was now trying it's first big number via Sherlock's mouth.

RAP RAP RAP RAP RAP.

Sherlock couldn't take it any more. He flushed the toilet and staggered to the bathroom door and yanked it open. An ashen faced John was standing there, clearly about to say something. Sherlock bent in half and successfully emptied his belly one more time, hitting John square in the shoes. Sherlock stood up slowly, dabbing his mouth with a wad of tissue. “Yes?”

John was staring down at his shoes in horror. Sherlock had managed to get the very tops of them, the mess soaking speedily into John's socks and staining the shoes forever. He looked up at Sherlock who had his eyebrow raised in imperious question and swallowed hard. “I was worried.”

“Oh good. I'm glad I stopped so I could reassure you. I really must get back to it now.” Sherlock stepped back into the rather rank chamber and busied himself over the toilet as he dry heaved. John squelched his way to the tub to sit on the edge and removed his socks and shoes. He threw everything in the bin and stayed on the edge of the tub as he washed his feet clean. Sherlock heaved a few more times before deciding nothing more was going to happen. He staggered away once more, rinsed his mouth out and went to lay on the bed, sweating lightly.

“Are you alright?” John winced as the words left his mouth. Clearly Sherlock was not alright and John knew he had annoyed his omega by asking. He couldn't help it. He was worried about his husband. Sherlock hadn't stopped vomiting all day. It had been such a long time since either of them had been more than momentarily unwell that John had worked himself up in to quite a state. He had tried to reach out to Sherlock's mind but had been rudely repelled for the first time ever. John had been quite shocked. If Sherlock hadn't locked the door behind him John might not have been so anxious but somehow knowing there was a barrier between the two of them that couldn't be easily breeched made John's hackles rise.

“I'm perfectly perfect John. Why ever do you ask?” Sherlock's tone was sweet, light and teasing. John's heart sank. “I've only been ridding myself of every scrap of food I've eaten in the last month. I probably didn't need it anyway. As you so kindly pointed out earlier I am a bit heavier around the middle these days. Was it the noise? Was I bothering you? I do apologize. Next time I'll try to muffle it somehow. Do you think if I smothered myself with a towel it would keep the sound down? I wouldn't want to worry you. Is that what you want John? For me to smother myself?”

John hurried to placate his irate mate, radiating loving devotion and tender concern. John was proud of Sherlock, loved him so very much. Sherlock was so amazing that John was constantly in awe of his magnificent omega. John chastised himself for his blunder. Sherlock had never been so prickly. He took offense at nearly everything, had a wild and heated temper, was sharp with every single person except Mrs Hudson. John wasn't Mrs Hudson. John's attempts to sooth him weren't working. Sherlock now hissed, “Why are you staring at me! Are you enjoying the freak show? The freak is looking exactly part isn't he? I suppose it's what I deserve though isn't it? I hope you're enjoying it all while you stand there mocking me and being perfectly normal.”

Sherlock was perhaps a little more touchy today than usual. “You look beautiful. Amazing. I can't stop staring.” Sherlock visibly preened as John sent wave after wave of hopeful love toward his temperamental mate. John allowed himself to admire Sherlock, to let his eyes caress those flushed cheeks, that pale brow. John let Sherlock watch as John continued to look Sherlock over as he stood by the edge of the bed. Sherlock was still in his bathrobe from this morning, rumpled and looking in need of a shower. His skin glowed and even if he looked a little green at the moment there was a vulnerability to his eyes that was so touching that it made John's heart melt. Shrugging off every cruel thing Sherlock had said recently John said honestly, “You look fantastic.”

Sherlock's tilted eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. The omega's mood completely shifted and he blinked rapidly as he looked up to John. “You really think so? Even now?” John settled on the bed quickly and hugged Sherlock carefully before he kissed his cheek. He allowed himself to stroke his hand carefully over Sherlock.

“Now. Then. Tomorrow. Always. It never stops. You leave me breathless. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I could stand here all day and be completely happy just looking at you.” Sherlock cuddled even closer to John, laying his hand over the doctor's. “You are not a freak Sherlock. You're perfect. It hurts me to know you still think that way. I love you Sherlock. I think you are the epitome of amazing. You know I do.”

With that gentle chide Sherlock suddenly smelled slightly ashamed of himself. “I'm sorry John. I say the most dreadful things and you just let me. It's not right. I shouldn't treat you this way.”

“I can deal with it Sherlock. I wouldn't have you do anything differently. If this is how you are then it's all fine. I love you and that will simply never change.” John was firm.

“Even though I'm fat?” John kissed Sherlock's head.

“You're not fat. You've gained exactly three pounds, that's hardly fat.” It was actually very little. John would have to see about finding some foods that agreed with Sherlock more. This reaction was stronger than John had anticipated. “You could gain a hundred pounds and carry them forever. Still won't stop me from loving you and thinking you're the most beautiful creation in existence, because you are.”

“You'll hate me tonight. You won't love me anymore.” Well now he was just being dramatic. John rolled his eyes. “It's four hours Sherlock. I would hope at this point we could survive four hours! You spend more time than that at the lab nearly every day!”

“It's closer to five hours John. I checked online.” John rolled his eyes a second time and shifted so Sherlock could look directly at him.

“Even if it were whole days it wouldn't matter. I'll be right here with you, it's not like we're going to be apart. We'll still be able to talk. I'll stay by your side the whole time if you want.” Sherlock had to realize how silly he was being but John would cut out his own tongue before calling Sherlock silly today. “You can keep your feet warm.”

Now Sherlock looked interested. “Are you seriously offering or are you going to change your mind?” John tried not to roll his eyes a third time.

“I'm seriously offering.” Sherlock mulled this over. John kissed his omega gently. “I'll do anything at all to keep a smile on my favorite face. I love you Sherlock. Whatever you want, just name it.”

“Can you fly in dinner from Angelo's and get me a sampler tray from Speedy's?” John nodded. “Can you make someone come clean the bathroom and take everything out of the refrigerator? It smells.” John nodded again. “Can I go visit Mrs Hudson for one last cup of tea?”

“Of course you can Sherlock. You don't need to ask permission. Do you want me to come with you?” Sherlock shook his head so John kissed him tenderly. “Go on then love. Come back when everything is ready.”

Sherlock was off. He left the flat but came back only a few seconds later. “John?” John looked up from his mobile where he was texting Anthea in London. “I am glad I'm having your baby.” John was left staring at an empty doorway with a foolish grin on his face, text incomplete as Sherlock ran lightly down the hallway toward Mrs Hudson.

It had come about so wonderfully thought John to himself as he allowed a few moments to reminisce. As soon as Sherlock calmed down he and John had sat down and really talked about what it would be like to have a child. In all the years they'd worked for it Sherlock hadn't dared have this particular conversation. There was too much hope invested, too much potential hurt involved. When it came to matters of the heart Sherlock was still learning to understand the drives and urges he had ignored for so long, now complicated by urges he had never thought to experience. Finally John just looked at Sherlock. “We're ready. We've been ready since the moment we found out it was even possible. I think we've just gotten used to denying ourselves. You've been working on this for close to a decade now. We have to get used to the idea now, the knowledge that we can really do this.”

Sherlock was so excited. He was coy and playful for the rest of the month as Baskerville swung back into it's former vital existence. Sherlock gained back the pounds he had lost while he grieved, his whole body becoming more alive than ever. Mycroft had responded similarly, emerging from his rooms with Greg helping him along. Mycroft must have stopped eating entirely because he had been rail thin. Like Sherlock though the omega recuperated swiftly and waited out the rest of the month with gently repressed joy. All the new babies were watched now, the teams of parents who tended them now substantially increased as everyone watched to see if any more puppies would turn or play with the oldest babies who tended to shift unexpectedly and made the entire concept of diapers very difficult.

By the time the full moon finally arrived Sherlock had worked himself into a fevered pitch. All his waiting was over. Years of dedication and toil were about to be paid off. Sherlock banished everyone from their wing of Baskerville, threatening the most dire of consequences of anyone dared disturb them. Mycroft and Greg were the only ones left but their suite was as far from Sherlock's as they could get so it was manageable.

John fed himself carefully knowing full well that those three days were going to be the hedonistic experience of their lives. The first day of the moon Sherlock refused to even get dressed further than draping a thin robe on. John just grinned in anticipation as he made the morning tea and a fast breakfast sandwich. Sherlock deigned to nibble some toast and finish one heavily sweetened cup of tea. The tall man had rested himself carefully the night before, spending the entire night in bed with his eyes closed. John wasn't sure if he actually slept but resting seemed sufficient for Sherlock to fully recharge.

When he had cleaned up from breakfast John surprised Sherlock by scooping him unexpectedly up with a grunt and carrying the omega right into the bedroom. John kissed Sherlock hard, forcing his husband to lay back on the bed as John straddled him, tongues sliding over teeth and lips in a messy kiss. “Sherlock. I want you to fuck me. Now, before the heat.”

With a growl Sherlock had John pinned to the bed in an instant. Their kiss became harder, deeper. John had planned this so while Sherlock lay back John drew out the bottle of lube tucked under the pillow. “I want to do it John.” husked Sherlock. John dribbled some on Sherlock's long hard fingers. “On your knees my sweet John.” Sherlock's voice was tender and filled with love. John moved easily and presented himself.

Sherlock sighed happily as he prepared John. They did this less and less even though they both enjoyed it. Both men groaned softly as Sherlock worked John open one finger at a time. As soon as he was ready Sherlock took him impatiently. John loved it. He loved the sounds Sherlock made as the omega became dominant and aggressive. Sherlock was so passionate, so feral. He rode John's body skillfully, making the alpha writhe and keen beneath his lover's long frame.

Suddenly John pushed Sherlock away. “Shift.” he rasped. A second later had Sherlock mounting John eagerly, his knot already forming. Both men whined as Sherlock drove himself as fast as he could. When his knot, much smaller than John's but still effective, swelled and caught John could not stop the howl. He never could. John and Sherlock cried out together as they rode the first wave of pleasure together. The knot didn't last long, only part of the hour or more John's knot would last. 

When Sherlock finally slipped away John could feel a trickle of come work it's way down the inside of his thigh. He smelled like Sherlock inside and out and nothing could have aroused the old soldier more.

Nothing except the sight of Sherlock's eyes turning silver just as he shifted back into a man. Shrugging himself out of his wolf John ignored the slight sting of his backside. He had finer things to deal with, like the shiny display Sherlock was giving him as the omega arranged himself brazenly on the bed. He smelled so good. John needed to scent him, needed to mark and be marked by Sherlock. He buried his face deep between those glorious cheeks, his tongue lapping and plunging recklessly. Sherlock groaned and reared back. John's taste buds were in overdrive. Sherlock's scent was magnified, compounded somehow in the slick he was producing. John could smell how ready Sherlock was, how eager he was, how he belonged to John and John only.

John entered. The omega's hips were too high so John rudely knocked Sherlock's knees wider to lower them. Sherlock was hotter inside than he had ever been. The ridges inside his body were swollen and rubbed John's cock in a weirdly pleasing way so the pleasure of each thrust was magnified. John swiveled his hips often as he bottomed out, wanting as much of Sherlock's slick on him as possible. John wanted to distill it, wear it as a perfume, roll in it forever. He wanted to rub his scent all over Sherlock, claim him in as many ways as he could so no alpha, no other person of any description would ever think they had even the slightest chance of getting anywhere close the the most perfect man in the entire world.

John had never felt so possessive of Sherlock, never desired him as much as he did right then. His love and lust for his omega had always been incalculable but right now John knew he had never realized the extent of his need to own and dominate his omega. John bit Sherlock's bond mark savagely, renewing it. Sherlock groaned and the smell of lust in the room spiked. John drove himself down, locking his hands on Sherlock hips. His rational mind was shorting out. John was operating on an instinctive level once again, the animal in him demanding control of his actions. John let it.

Sherlock loved it. John rode him hard, biting and scratching at will. Each fleeting bit of damage simply spurred Sherlock happily along. Sherlock began to whine and keen, his hips beginning to ride smoothly back and forth as they found a fast fierce rhythm together. Both men felt their bodies tighten, both men felt their balls draw up tight, heard their mate's impassioned pants for air as their bodies moved and moved and moved. Finally John was yanking Sherlock backward repeatedly as he sought to enter the omega as much as possible. Sherlock had braced himself on one hand while the other worked rapidly over his cock.

At the peak of their crisis both men gave voice to long shuddering cries that echoed off the walls and merged together. Sherlock almost sat up straight up, knees spread wide while John arced backward, his hands locked on Sherlock's hips as he emptied himself deep inside Sherlock's very willing body. His hips continued to snap as the orgasm shook the alpha, small bloody bruises forming at his fingertips where he had dug into Sherlock's flesh. The smell of lust and semen was heavy in the air. John was so exhausted, so satisfied and he wanted to lay back but he didn't. Instead he kept himself buried deep inside his husband, enjoyed the heat of his body as Sherlock sighed happily and swirled his hips in the tiniest of circles.

They stayed together for as long as they could before John finally had to pull away. Sherlock fell to his hands, knees splayed, ass wide open, his cheeks shining with slick and nothing else. John moaned and before he could think of what he was doing he had his face buried yet again, licking and lapping rudely at Sherlock's opening. The omega gasped softly over and over again as his alpha covered himself in their mixed scent. A short while later both men finally sank to the pillows, exhausted and extraordinarily satisfied. The wave had ended sometime during John's display but Sherlock hadn't troubled himself to stop his lover. He loved the attention, enjoyed the sensitivity of his body and admitted to himself that he would have tolerated John doing absolutely anything right then.

Sherlock didn't have to reject the seed. He'd kept it inside him where it would be joined by more and more and more as the moon days passed. Sherlock was as happy as he'd ever felt and he had John to thank for that. For the next three days he would retain seed as he chose, allowing himself to be fertilized, allow that small cluster of cells to attach to his womb and flourish. Some time in the next three days one lucky sperm would hit it off with a very interested egg and both of them would go off to become something greater than the sum of their parts.

A single day after the heat was over Sherlock's scent changed. Both men woke up in the morning, their eyes snapping open before they turned to look at each other. Sherlock was rapturous. There was no test needed. Both of them knew without a doubt that they had been successful. Sherlock was euphoric and John spent the entire day in a proud daze as they made their way through the facility accepting congratulations from everyone. Sherlock was pregnant.

It was now a whole month later and the full moon was here. For the first time since they changed Sherlock didn't silver. The peak of moon-rise was going to be soon and John would have to change but Sherlock would not. John made his arrangements and soon was allowing the cleaning staff to come deal with the bathroom and upon inspection, the throw carpet by the bed. It was disposed of, everything scrubbed down with disinfectant then an odor neutralizer before the refrigerator was also emptied and sterilized. It was getting close to moon-rise before Sherlock's orders arrived and John was pacing about anxiously. He had called for Sherlock nearly half an hour ago.

Finally Sherlock reappeared smelling of tea and Mrs Hudson's ginger cookies. Ian's scent was in the background but just a hint so he must not have been home. Sherlock rushed over and hugged John tight. “I'm sorry I took so long. I meant to be back sooner.” John nodded, not very happy about being made to wait but Sherlock was so content looking that he swallowed it back. Sherlock saw and an unhappy smile tugged his full lips. Tears filled his eyes and Sherlock suddenly smelled very upset. “I knew it. You do hate me. I knew it.”

John hastened to hug Sherlock tight to him, mopping up the tears with his shirt. “I don't hate you love! I miss you is all. I haven't seen you for almost two hours and that's a long time for me. I love you that much.” Sherlock's smile was tremulous once more and John kissed the tears away. “I'm happy you're home.”

“I'm sorry I was gone so long. Mrs Hudson was helping me look through a book of baby names she brought. She made cookies. I was supposed to bring some back for you but I ate them.” John beamed at Sherlock. The morning sickness had been a surprise for both of them. Sherlock had it bad and he loathed Mycroft even more. Both brothers were successfully pregnant but while Sherlock heaved and retched day after day Mycroft merely looked like he was glowing slightly and looked more dapper than ever. The positive effect, apart from complete happiness was Sherlock's appetite. He had one. A big one. Now when Sherlock ate you could be sure his plate would be cleared and part of your own seriously at risk. John was incredibly pleased with this and people began to offset Sherlock's vicious mood swings with soothing gifts of hand-made snacks. It worked and everyone who worked with Sherlock began to carry around pocketfuls of healthy treats, just in case.

Before John had a chance to give his mate a proper kiss it was moon-rise. Unable to stop himself John felt his body shift and then he was on his haunches looking up at Sherlock. Sherlock made a face but they could still communicate so John flicked his eyes toward the stove. Sherlock saw his dinner waiting and his face lit up. “Oh John. You even have tea waiting.”

Sherlock carried his meal to the living room and turned on the TV to listen to while he ate. After taking a big bite he eyed John meaningfully. John sighed wolfily and lay on the floor in front of Sherlock. A second later two giant ice cold feet were buried in John's fur. Sherlock exhaled with contentment and ate the rest of his dinner. “I love you John. You're the best alpha in the world.”

There wasn't anything John could say to that. He was king of the werewolves, feared and respected around the planet. He worked with the shadowiest of hidden governments and the most powerful banks and corporations around as well as the most influential of scientific endeavors. He had slain his enemies abroad and at home and survived. He had tamed and gentled Sherlock Holmes, the greatest challenge a man could undertake and right now John's reward was being made a living carpet. “You're soft too.” said Sherlock. “You know, as well as warm. You tickle my feet and I like it.” John exhaled and lay there patiently. Eight more months to go.

 

**_"Why are you staring at me!"_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any experience with being near a pregnant person or having been a pregnant person you know what Sherlock is going through.


	14. A Little Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is pregnant and he deals with it pretty much how you'd expect he would.

Mrs Hudson was a hero. She was loved and nearly venerated by everyone who met her. Her charm and grace, her compassion and understanding, her endless hospitality, all of it made her a fast favorite of everyone who met her. Other betas looked up to her, were taken under her motherly wing as she made everyone feel loved and welcome. She made dear friends with Patrick and Ethan almost instantly, coaxing the young men out of their shy shells, wrapping Sidney in a blanket of earnest praise, as well as making herself available to any other person who seemed in need of an ear to listen and maybe a small slice of lemon cake to go with tea.

Mrs Hudson's body had gotten younger as the months had passed until she seemed to be holding steady at a very lovely thirty something. Her relationship with Ian seemed to be a happy and contented one. She volunteered wherever she was needed and could be found somewhere in the facility helping out at any given moment. As far as the residents of Baskerville and surrounding regions were concerned Mrs Hudson was one of the most essential people in existence. She had one very important role at Baskerville. Sherlock.

Mrs Hudson was the only one able to deal with Sherlock now that he was pregnant. As a beta she was naturally drawn to care for a pregnant omega. As Mrs Hudson she had YEARS of experience dealing with Sherlock when he was so awful that not a single other person anywhere would come near him. When he had been getting clean from his addictions his rages had been epic. He had destroyed nearly everything that came to hand, shouted away any attempts to help by Mycroft or Greg who didn't even know his future husband back then, and been as verbally abusive as only Sherlock could manage to anyone within earshot. She had a knack with him, some way of letting the abuse slide around her, of comforting and settling him.

Pregnancy did not agree with Sherlock. It made him mulish. Sullen. Panicky. Sensitive. Hysterical. Temperamental didn't even begin to describe it. Saying he was difficult at times made it sound like there were moments when he wasn't. He was insecure about his appearance which was changing rapidly. Sherlock fretted about his diet because he was hungry all the time. He'd convinced himself something was wrong and forced John to run series after series of tests to make sure things were okay. Sherlock washed all the time. At every opportunity he would stop and clean himself. If he didn't heal so fast his hands would be raw from scrubbing. The omega nitpicked about little things more than he had before but what made it worse, so much worse, was the whining.

When Sherlock was in a strop John prayed for times when Sherlock was spitting abuse directly in his face, demeaning John's entire existence, the existence of John's forebears and all their relations. It was so much pleasanter than listening to that horrible sniveling hitch in his voice when he complained about an endless litany of tiny things. Sherlock couldn't seem to help it. His mind was vast but now he fixated easily on inconsequential things. Not long ago Sherlock had spent ages moaning about how the trim along the corridors was three millimeters higher at the south end. He went on about it for nearly two hours. Sherlock's deep glorious wonderfully expressive and magnificent voice would become querulous when he was like this, the range and depth of his displeasure displayed in every possible manner.

Sherlock drove John spare, he really did. John loved Sherlock. John thought Sherlock's swelling body was a thing of sheer beauty, a miracle of creation. Whenever John tried to compliment Sherlock his remarks were seen as criticisms. Sherlock's quicksilver mind was able to pick apart the most innocuous statement and twist it into an unintentional barb of epic proportions. It nearly always ended in tears with Sherlock running to find Mrs Hudson wherever she was while a distraught John tore his hair out in frustration. Some time later Sherlock would return, sheepish and apologetic for his outburst before showering John with unrestrained affection and love for the rest of the day.

Sherlock was making John crazy. Bless Mrs Hudson.

Mrs Hudson made Sherlock behave and express himself in a kindlier manner by denying him treats and taking away his tea. It was surprisingly effective for such an obvious gambit and it floored everyone at Baskerville who had spent years bowing down to Sherlock's indomitable will. Sherlock absolutely adored Mrs Hudson and she accustomed to his ways. She had loved and cared for him long before John had. She had cut her teeth on the sharpest parts of Sherlock's razor blade personality and earned her place in Sherlock's heart as the first person he'd ever fully trusted.

Not that he didn't trust John, he did. It was just that Mrs Hudson was first. John couldn't help that. He had just been enlisting in the army when Sherlock had met Mrs Hudson, there was no way for either man to have ever made one another's acquaintance. Instead Mrs Hudson had helped pick up the wreck of an addict and set his trembling feet on the path to the future. Now when he was distraught and didn't feel like himself he instinctively sought her out for her comfort and advice. She'd listen to his woes, tell him was being a fool, give him tea and a snack unless he was being bad and always sent him back to John to tell his husband how much he cared.

It had been weeks. Things had gotten rougher and rougher. As the morning sickness subsided Sherlock had gotten exponentially more demanding instead, often asking for hard to find things at the worst possible times like Sunday afternoons when the shops necessary were closed. Denying him for meretricious reasons like the item being requested being on another continent was cause for shouting and more tears. Sherlock's sleeping patterns were worse than ever as well. He slept poorly, sometimes staying up all night and he wanted John with him constantly. That meant that if Sherlock was up John was up.

John still had to work. He had long hours now and a lot of obligations, most of which existed because of Sherlock. They were running a continuation of the experiment after seeking out and inviting any pregnant werewolf they could locate to come be freely exposed to the treatment. He still had meetings to deal with for contracts they had in place. He had to consult with the project manager, the headmaster, the nursery where another batch of puppies had turned. In between the work he did for Baskerville he fitted in an ever-growing list of things that Sherlock had asked him to deal with, most of them deemed urgent. 

Today John was in an exhausted haze while he did his much interrupted rounds. It made things sort of soft around the edges. He wasn't sure when he'd last had more than a couple hours of sleep in a row. John was on a steady diet of strong coffee, he had regularly been missing meals in order to get a few more things done and very recently he discovered that no one seemed to speak English anymore. Patrick had to walk a bemused John back to his suite using hand gestures to direct him and settled John on the sofa. The beta was just leaving when Sherlock breezed in and began to recite a new list of things John needed to get done. Since John and Sherlock were bonded language presented no barrier so wearily John got up and began to totter out of the suite to get on it. He had to keep Sherlock happy, he didn't have the energy to deal with another bout of temper.

Patrick stopped the alpha. Using gestures again he made John sit down. It then appeared to John that Sherlock was receiving something of a talking to and that he wasn't responding well to it. In fact he was getting irate. Sherlock was upset. Very upset. John could smell it. His omega was feeling somehow threatened. There was shame there. The person in front of his mate was upsetting Sherlock and that just couldn't happen! John became upset. Sherlock got worse and began shouting at the man stridently, trying to push him out the door violently. Even though he was just a beta John snapped, shifted and attacked the unwelcome intruder.

John rose slightly out of his protective haze and realized that it was Patrick was on the floor. There blood everywhere and Sherlock, Ethan, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft and Greg were somehow magically surrounding him. How had they gotten here? Everything fuzzed out again and when John looked he noted that more people were yelling at Sherlock. John went insane with rage. Snapping he tried to get everyone to back away from his weeping omega. Greg and Ethan dragged Patrick away, the beta bleeding profusely from the bite on his shoulder. Mrs Hudson was right in front of Sherlock and she was shaking her finger under his nose! John's nose wrinkled in a snarl, he bunched up his body and prepared to attack his enemy. With a shocked look Sherlock shouted, “NO!”

John didn't jump but he stayed tense and growling until everyone backed out of their suite. When the door was finally safely locked and the suite empty of everyone but Sherlock and John the alpha went through every room to double check then nosed his omega all over to make sure both he and the baby were alright. Sherlock was hugging and stroking his fur. John calmed slowly as he took in his omega's scent. Sherlock was safe now. The baby was safe now. They were safe now. There was blood on John and the floor, the tang of it rich in his nose.

John relaxed and shifted. Sherlock led him to the bathroom and John sighed as he let Sherlock wash his hands and face. He hoped this wasn't another new trend. John didn't really want to join his omega's obsessive hand washing club. Sherlock led him to the bedroom and seemed to want to lay down. John sighed once more and lay himself down beside his husband. Whatever Sherlock wanted, that's what John would provide. Right now Sherlock wanted John to close his eyes so he did. Then Sherlock wanted John to count slowly for him, asking that John keep his voice soft and low. John wasn't sure how long he could keep that up but he focused on the numbers. Eventually somewhere around the early 300's John's eyes grew heavy and he slept.

John woke up horrified. Sherlock was slumbering next to him, the gentle swell of his belly jutting up as the omega rested. John felt horrible. He had attacked Patrick! John had almost attacked Mrs Hudson! He was a monster! John was repelled with himself. He left the bed in a hurry, his clothes still stinking of Patrick's blood. He needed to get away before he hurt Sherlock, harmed their baby, killed someone! John needed to be put down like a mad dog or at least locked away like Vuk. He was yanking open the door to their suite when Sherlock's hand on his arm prevented him. “John I'm so sorry.”

What? What was Sherlock sorry for? John was the one who had savaged a pack member and dear friend. Sherlock drew John close to him, wrapping his long slender arms tight around John's body. The alpha could feel the beautiful swell of Sherlock's belly, the small hard ball of hope that he carried for both of them. “John I have to apologize. I have egregiously wronged you. It's been pointed out several times that I have been perhaps a bit unreasonable with my demands on your time. I haven't been caring for you the way I ought to have been and instead I've allowed myself to become appallingly negligent of you and your needs. Mrs Hudson told me that after she asked around it seems that I haven't let you sleep for more than seven hours in the last five days. I've been napping while you were at work and never thought about you needing rest, not even once. You have not eaten in two days. Instead of sharing this pregnancy with you I've used it as a bludgeon. I haven't even attempted to be understanding or caring, I've used your influence to satisfy petty and completely pointless requests. I've abused your love so much you were driven to hurt someone you never would have hurt and the guilt of it will never leave you.”

Tears were heavy in Sherlock's eyes as he made his apology. John was open mouthed. “You've been napping while I was at work? No wonder you never seemed to get tired!” Instead of chastising him for focusing on the wrong part of the apology Sherlock drew John back onto the sofa and made him lay back. “What's happening.”

“I'm going to take care of you John. Titania will help Mycroft take over your duties for the next few days. We're going to rest. Together.” Sherlock draped a lap blanket over John's hips and went to the kitchen. After a few minutes he brought back a tray of sandwiches and two hot cups of tea. “Mrs Hudson made the sandwiches last night. She came back after you fell asleep and had another word with me. So did Mycroft and Ethan. Titania stopped by. Patrick is alright but he's worried about you. Even Mai and Sidney came by.” Sherlock was silent then as he listed all the people who had finally felt the need to throw themselves in front of Sherlock like he was a live grenade. Tears welled up again but Sherlock shook his head when John tried to get up.

“Darling I want to hug you, please?” the alpha asked. Sherlock flew into his arms and both of them hung on tight. “I just wanted to keep you happy Sherlock. That's what was important to me.”

“You should have been just as important to me John, that's what I'm trying to explain! I obviously broke you. You were completely feral. I could tell you didn't recognize anyone! That was my fault John, not yours!” Sherlock's shoulders shook and he smelled ashamed of himself again. John's heart gave a painful lurch. “I'm a selfish bastard John. I've been allowing myself to do whatever popped into my head because I'm pregnant and for some reason I felt it gave me the right to run roughshod over everyone around me including you. It's been ages since we made love because for some reason making you personally go to London to get my newest request seemed more important to me. I'm horrible! Instead of sharing all the little changes I'm experiencing I've been forcing you to run one stupid errand after another, never once considering how hard you needed to push yourself to keep doing everything.”

“Sherlock, I like doing things for you.” protested John uneasily. Was he inadequate? Was Sherlock dissatisfied with what John had accomplished? The doctor began to run a check in his head but Sherlock took his hand and kissed it.

“I know you do John, that's the problem. I know you'll do anything I ask as many times as I want no matter what. So I have been. I see that now. I've been making you do all these stupid things for no better reason than to see if you still love me enough to continue. What's wrong with me John? You love me more than anyone. How could I do that to you?” Sherlock was distraught again. John sighed wearily and held his lover tight.

“It's fine now Sherlock, really it is. All I need is a bit of food and rest and to apologize to Patrick and Mrs Hudson somehow.” Patrick! He must feel so betrayed. John had no idea how he was going to make it up to his friend.

“Patrick says he doesn't blame you. He blames himself for antagonizing you by shouting at me. You should probably speak to him so you can sort things out. Mrs Hudson isn't upset with you. She was very angry with me. She...she....she called me a child! She said Delta is more mature than I am!” Sherlock bit his lip and took a deep breath. “Okay. Don't listen to that last bit. Right now it's not about me, it's about you. You need to rest and take it easy before you chew someone's heart out.”

John paled and Sherlock bit his lip again, squeezing his eyes shut. He opened them quickly and caught John's chin before the alpha could pull himself away. “No John. You would never do that. Even the bite you gave Patrick wasn't terrible. Yes it did bleed a lot but you didn't do more than break the skin and try to haul him out the door. Everyone showed up right then and stopped you so I suppose it must have looked worse than it was by the time you came to your senses. Oh John! I am sorry!”

There was a rap at the door. Sherlock got up and Mrs Hudson bustled in. For a minute John experienced an oddly skewed sense of being back at 221 B. Mrs Hudson was carrying a meal tray and she handed it to Sherlock to set on the table. Sitting beside John she patted his hand soothingly. “Good morning John! We need to talk. Sherlock? Sit down and be quiet.”

Sherlock sat down and held his teacup silently and eyed Mrs Hudson timidly. She gave him a fond look but turned to John. “John my dear I have tried with you both but you do seem to prefer doing things the hard way! Why ever didn't you simply tell Sherlock to settle down? You would have before, back in London.” John would have. If Sherlock had behaved like this before they were changed John would have had very sharp words with him and even possibly punched Sherlock in the face. Settling Sherlock down had practically been John's only responsibility when they used to work cases.

“I don't know Mrs Hudson. It all happened gradually. Sherlock doesn't feel well most of the time. He's been sick nearly every morning. He gets hurt feelings easily and I don't like how that makes me feel so I try to avoid it no matter what. I'm trying to take care of him but I'm not good enough. I can't keep him happy. I'm a failure as an alpha. I feel terrible about it but there's all this other stuff too – the experiment, the facility, the...” Sherlock was looking more and more unhappy as he listened to John explain why he had driven himself into a mental breakdown. The guilt on the omega's face sliced at John's soul and he stopped speaking. Mrs Hudson glanced over at Sherlock.

“Sherlock Holmes! I do hope you are looking closely at the person, may I remind you, who is your husband! Look at John.” Sherlock did as he was told. He flinched when he saw how tired John still was. “Sherlock do you even work anymore or did you stop the second you could get pregnant?”

Sherlock looked at his feet. He had ditched nearly all his work the day after the first puppies had shown up, dropping everything on the junior members of his team. John had taken up some of the slack and Sherlock had simply let him. “I don't work Mrs Hudson.”

“So you spend every day all day long eating, sleeping complaining about everything and coming up with new things for John to do for you while he does his job and yours, am I correct?” Her obvious disappointment was a blow to the omega. That shame smell was coming back and Sherlock nodded. “Sherlock Holmes! I would spank you if I didn't know you'd enjoy it!”

Both men blushed right down to their feet. The things Mrs Hudson knew about them! She patted John's hand one more time and stood up. “Both of you are being foolish. You are officially on holiday for a week. Sherlock? Do try a little harder dear. You're going to have a child. It's time to stop being one.” Mrs Hudson kissed both of them on the cheek, gave them each a fond smile and left the two men looking at one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...they needed a talking to. Who better than Mrs H?


	15. Bumps in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Greg have been busy in the background of Baskerville.

Greg and Mycroft were in their suite examining the facility reports together. Over the last few years they had refined their bond so that they were a brutally efficient team. Both men had put a lot of careful thought into growth and development of their assets. Neither John nor Sherlock really cared what they did to make money as long as it wasn't grotesquely unethical. Mycroft and Greg made their own decisions and pursued their goals quietly. As it was John was run off his feet, Sherlock was too obsessive about work and now his pregnancy but Mycroft and Greg had made long term plans right from day one and had assiduously worked to make those plans happen.

Though it was an available option Mycroft had no intention of dipping into the lucrative but seedier side of the global business world. When they were done Baskerville would been seen as a place of impeccable worth, have a pedigreed past, something to be admired and desired. When they traveled abroad they used different names for different business, keeping in the shadows as much as possible as they played their convoluted games. Their goal to create a financially stable and just werewolf society was going well. They'd found nearly every werewolf on the planet and had taken in a substantial number of them at the school.

Their involvement in the technology industry was progressing faster and faster now as new materials were being discovered. The couple had long developed a comfortable relationship with various programs, discretely providing funding here and there as they kept apprised of all the developments. Research into deep space travel was of particular interest to both men. It wasn't unreasonable to assume they would be around long enough to see humanity actually begin traveling to the stars on a regular basis. It didn't hurt to keep a hand in as many pots as possible, just in case. It kept little trickles of profit coming in from different places which began to pool together pleasingly.

Siofra's reports on this front were comprehensive and many. Her friends at CERN and elsewhere were always willing to keep her abreast of any new information. She had taken to wearing facial prosthetics when visiting abroad. Just subtle ones, a couple of faint crows feet, a small smile line. Just enough to take the youthful blush from her cheek and let her very human associates know that she was aging normally. Greg and Mycroft had both 'died' in the last few years, Greg after only two and Mycroft 'surviving' only a year after that. They had ceased going to London some time ago and planned to wait at least another decade before making any furtive attempts to return to the city both were known so well in.

Then there was the pregnancy. While Sherlock made a serious bid for Drama Queen of the Year his brother had graciously dealt with all his little troubles quietly. Greg had simply talked to Patrick and learned about foods that would settle an omega's stomach, both men made sure the other rested and ate properly and both men shook their heads as they watched John and Sherlock fall to pieces. Mycroft sat back and tapped his index finger over his lip, something he did when he was about to express a concern. “I'm getting heavier rather faster than I anticipated.”

Greg looked at his husband. The gentle swell of his abdomen was cleverly concealed behind Mycroft's elegant suit but the bump was already noticeable. They weren't even finished the first trimester. Mycroft should hardly be showing yet but there was a very clear bump riding low on his belly. For now it could be mistaken for the beginnings of a fine pot belly but it wouldn't stay that way for long. “Nothing we can do about that.” said Greg laconically.

“I wasn't suggesting there was. I do believe some changes are required in my wardrobe though.” Greg nodded. He'd seen this thought in Mycroft's mind before. It was sensible and would allow the omega to keep working with his husband in the human world until he was too ungainly to get about. “I'll call someone to begin today.”

Later that afternoon found Greg seated in a large room filled with tall cases of fabric. Mycroft was standing on a shallow plinth and he was seriously discussing color swatches with a very rounded beta with a warm laugh and brown eyes. “I'll need business wear, evening wear as well as a selection of casual items.” The beta nodded, made another note on the clipboard she was using and helped Mycroft down. Greg stood up and took his husband's arm. “You sure?”

“Yes Gregory. I won't mind.” Mycroft was amazing, thought Greg as he escorted his omega back to their suite. How many other men would be willing to pose as a woman to keep working during his pregnancy. Greg was so proud. Mycroft was an inspiration, a real survivor. He did what needed doing, no matter what.

When they got back Mycroft drew Greg into the bath with him. With a small secret smile the omega presented his alpha with a disposable razor. Greg grinned. Mycroft's legs were something else. Long. Shapely. Narrow and firm. Most women would kill to have legs like his. Greg was more than happy to slowly cover the first elegantly presented limb with a layer of shaving foam. He took his time, enjoying every moment it took to strip Mycroft of his body hair. They stood after and allowed the foamy water to drain away as they showered themselves clean.

They were used to being busy, accustomed to juggling a lot with very little time. They had a little time right then so they used it wisely. Mycroft demonstrated his inhuman flexibility that John had privately admitted Sherlock also possessed. Greg was very happy and ten short minutes later both men were rinsing off and laughing softly together.

Mycroft stood in the center of the bathroom after they were done and let Gregory smooth copious amounts of lotion all over him. He was smooth everywhere, only the hair on his head and his eyebrows remained. Greg just drooled. He never understood how people missed seeing how gorgeous the Holmes brothers really were. Sherlock wasn't to Greg's tastes but his similarities to his older brother were undeniable. Both men were tall, lithe, graceful and just unearthly! Mycroft always looked dignified, it didn't matter if he was wearing one of his three piece bespoke suits or bare naked and riding Greg's cock. He was so self confident, Mycroft knew what he was doing at all times and he made Greg wild for him. Like his little brother Mycroft defied labels.

Even among werewolves the Holmes brothers once again excelled so far above the norm they may as well have been their own species. Lycanthropus sapiens holmes. For sheer physical power and dominance both John and Greg were werewolf giants by comparison to others. Against one another Greg knew he would never have it in him to overwhelm John. John was well matched with Sherlock. Both of them were the most unusual examples of their secondary genders. They really stood out.

Greg thanked his years in The Yard for his ability to melt a little easier into the general wolf population. He was unusually friendly for an alpha but he had been a DI for a long time, he needed to know people were doing okay, that nothing bad was happening out of sight. The best way to do that was just talk to them so Greg did. He popped by for cups of tea or spent time with the kids. He volunteered for activities and had written a very popular set of puppet shows that he and Mycroft often entertained the little ones with. He kept his ear to the ground and made sure everything went according to plan. Werewolves would be better than they'd started out to be.

Mycroft's eyebrow quirked suddenly and something flashed across his face. Greg eyed Mycroft's belly. Though he wasn't particularly hirsute the removal of Mycroft's treasure trail somehow made the bump seem strangely large now. Mycroft was looking down at it too, his expression becoming puzzled. “Gregory my dear. I'm not sure but does this seem rather bigger suddenly?” So Greg hadn't been seeing things.

He reached his hand out. The bump quivered and he snatched his hand back. Mycroft gasped and Greg swore. “Myc, I think we should go get this checked out.” Mycroft nodded and both men quickly dressed. Their mobile chirped.

“John? What's wrong? What? No, we were just going there. Okay.” Greg hung up. “Something is wrong with Sherlock. John's getting him to the infirmary.” Mycroft's belly quivered again and the omega splayed his hand over it. “Let's go.”

It was only a five minute walk but it seemed like forever. Mycroft stayed silent but allowed Greg to blend with him so Greg could experience the sensations for himself. It was strange. Not painful. Like a bubble or something shifting deep inside but huge. Mycroft's womb was heavy feeling and Greg noted there was a sense of expectation growing. Mycroft was nervous, worried but Greg just couldn't feel anything that gave him the sense of distress. The quiver happened again and both men gasped together.

Sherlock and John were there so Greg and Mycroft separated. Sherlock looked pale, his lips pressed together, his hand splayed over his belly just like Mycroft. Both brothers stared at each other and had one of those maddening soundless conversations. Their hands dropped away and they looked curious now. Eyebrows raised at the same time and both of them said, “Interesting.”

“What is interesting? I swear you two are telepathic and just won't admit it.” John sounded worried and anxious. Patrick came in and John tensed, regret and chagrin suddenly radiating from him. Patrick gave him a hug and now John smelled confused. “Patrick – about what happened....”

Patrick cut him off with a fond smile, “It's going to be okay John. We're just going to get them up on the table to do a scan. Come on, let's see what's going on under the hood.” Sherlock and Mycroft were disrobed and put into enormously glamorous hospital gowns. Sherlock plucked at the rough fabric petulantly but Mycroft merely lay there as if being partially exposed in front of a room of people and his brother wasn't anything of consequence. Draping a sheet decorously over their hips Patrick looked at them. “Who wants to go first?”

Sherlock and Mycroft cut their eyes at one another. A silent argument ensured. Twitches of lips and flickers of eyes transmitted vast stores of information between the siblings as they debated. Finally Sherlock lay back looking satisfied. “Mycroft.” Mycroft grimaced. He didn't want to be the first to find out what ominous thing was happening to his child! A flicker of worry stabbed through him for the first time. Patrick sensed his unease and just went about the procedure with calm efficiency which soothed Mycroft. The beta didn't smell worried and he gave Mycroft a warm sincere smile. The omega instinctively relaxed as he was tended by the beta. Patrick really was good at his job.

Gel was smeared across the bump on Mycroft's abdomen and the wand applied. All eyes locked onto the screen as static images began to emerge. It was dizzying to look at in the beginning, gradients of black and white slashed with brilliant lines as information was received and displayed for their viewing. There was a fluttering mass suddenly, the image slipping away too rapidly for anyone to get a good idea of what they were looking at. Mycroft felt Patrick pull the wand back slowly and the mass reappeared.

Everyone blinked. Heartbeat. Or rather. Heartbeats. They seemed very close together so it was very difficult to tell. Patrick slid the wand this way and that to get a different perspective. Mycroft's womb quivered again and the fluttering mass grew larger. Everyone's eyes widened. What was going on here?

John wasn't wasting any more time. He pulled up Sherlock's gown and smeared gel on his husband's stomach. Taking a second wand he carefully directed it over the solid surface. In the monitor next to Mycroft's a second mass of heartbeats was showing. When they'd had the first of many checkups only a single heartbeat had ever been detected. Now there were how many? John and Sherlock stared as intently as Greg and Mycroft as the wands slid around to make a definite count. Sherlock's belly quivered and the mass grew brighter. “Did you see that!” breathed John in awe.

Patrick looked down at Mycroft. “That movement. How many times has that happened?” Mycroft thought for a moment. 

“Four times.” he answered looking at Greg. His husband nodded, “Including the one you felt.” Patrick slid the wand back and forth. They heard Sherlock gasp and understood that he had experienced another one. 

Everyone looked at the monitors side by side. “Congratulations you two! Multiples. I haven't seen this many pups in a litter for decades. Mycroft, you've got five of the little devils in there. Sherlock. From the looks of it you've got the full six. Well done alphas!”

“Well done alphas?” demanded Sherlock indignantly. “You've just told me I'm pregnant with six children at the same time but you're congratulating John and Greg? Why?”

Patrick was smiling down at the omega. “I always forget you are such a young wolf even with your old memories. An omega will produce as many pups as can be cared for successfully. Of course, no multiple werewolf pregnancy has ever been under recorded medical care and none of the parents at Baskerville have ever managed to produce more than two at a time. This will be interesting to monitor. What it means Sherlock, is that John and Greg have subconsciously assured both of you and Mycroft that they are willing and able to support all of you...”

“That's very fascinating but why haven't we seen them until now? Sherlock practically lives here!” demanded John. Sherlock and his tests! John had run more series with his husband alone than any family group you could find anywhere in the facility.

Patrick tried to explain, “Sherlock refused the ultrasound before this!”

“It's not proven that ultrasound waves fail to harm hearing development in fetuses. I wasn't going to risk deafening our child just for a quick peek!” Sherlock protested instantly. “So what. We haven't done a ultrasound before today and if you look closely you can see two of the hearts are beating in tandem. Wait...no look, now it's doing it's own thing.” Everyone had looked where Sherlock had pointed and everyone saw a single pulse become two separate beats.”

“So...they've been in tune or something all this time?” asked Greg. Everyone laughed. “Well I'm the only one without some kind of advanced degree in peopleology so I just wanted to ask. “Or is this something we don't know yet.”

“It's something we don't know yet. Everything we do is new ground. Even the things we think we know are still left to chance. I read a book once that mentioned something about it, something called The Law of Unintended Consequences.” Sherlock sounded distracted as he continued to gaze adoringly at John.

“That law applies to every circumstance in our lives.” rebutted Mycroft instantly. “Everything we do is left to chance, all we can do is hedge our bets. Gregory? I do believe I'm ready to redress.”

“So if I'm having six and Mycroft is only having five does that mean John is better than Greg, is that what you're saying Patrick?” Sherlock shot a triumphant look at Mycroft who ignored his little brother. He was too busy looking ecstatically at Greg. John was still staring at the monitor and Sherlock realized his mate was counting the heartbeats over and over again.

“No, your brother is respectful and is having one less pup than the Khan.” said Patrick glibly and Sherlock shut up. Mycroft smiled faintly and didn't look at his brother. John and Greg were standing there, both men entirely speechless. “You can breath whenever you want John.”

John inhaled raggedly. He hadn't realized he had stopped. He couldn't stop looking at the monitor. Patrick pressed a few buttons and a series of print-offs spooled out. John cleaned Sherlock off and helped his mate sit up to look at them. There they were. Their litter. Six of them. Eleven new Holmes'. Lycanthropus sapiens holmes was off to a brilliant start. 

John looked down at his omega. “This changes everything.” he breathed. Sherlock nodded. His scent was changing even as John watching him. Sherlock was calming down, focusing. The undertone of John's scent that mixed with Sherlock's grew increasingly dominant. “Sherlock I have to be in charge now. I'm going to look after you but on my terms okay? We can't have either one of us going off the deep end, not anymore.”

“That's acceptable John. I do believe I'll be fine now.” Sherlock was looking at John with a rapturous expression. His eyes were starry and he had a silly little grin plastered on his face. He sounded almost shy when he observed, “You love and care for me enough to give me six babies at the same time.”

That's really what it had all boiled down to. Sherlock needed proof that he was loved and would continue to be loved. Of course simply asking would be boring. Instead Sherlock had subjected John to the very Sherlockian method of the long convoluted way round instead of just getting to the point. Six babies though was proof positive that John was committed to Sherlock. Their biology didn't lie and Sherlock finally, finally relaxed.

Everyone heaved a secret sigh of relief as the omega continued to stare at his alpha, completely entranced. Mycroft was no better. The fact that neither brother noticed the other's reaction was merely further proof of how deeply they had been affected by their news. Eleven babies! John needed to sit down. Patrick was delighted and almost dancing around with joy. 

John wasn't sure if Greg had moved a muscled or batted an eye. He seemed frozen to the spot. It wasn't until both Mycroft and Greg blinked at the same time did John realize that they had blended. Greg's face was filled with wonder and Mycroft was for the first time simply gentle and filled with love. John felt a stab of envy for just one burning second as he wished he could do the same, to feel the babies within Sherlock, to experience the miracle that he was creating. Greg was so lucky. Instead he stood back up and embraced Sherlock happily, stroking the bump lovingly as he kissed his omega over and over again. 

“You're amazing. Incredible. Fantastic.” They always had the same effect on Sherlock. His face, so startled and suddenly shy. He knew John really meant those words no matter how many times he repeated them. To John Sherlock was constantly so and it always took Sherlock by surprise. He blushed charmingly so John kissed him again, proud and happy with his beautiful and clever mate.

Sherlock got dressed and strolled back to their suite on a cloud of happiness. The omega radiated languid contentment as he walked with his arm tucked firmly into John's. “We should come up with a list of names. It was hard enough beginning to think of just one. Now we have six to choose. I like Alberich. What do you think?”

“No! I want our children to have friends when they grow up. What about Martin? That's a good solid name.” Sherlock shook his head.

“No! You can't name a wolf pup after a rodent!” said Sherlock indignantly.

John didn't hesitate, “Oi! I like the name Martin. One of my favorite actors has that name.” 

“Yes I remember. Those science fiction shows you like so much. Well, eventually you'll get to see if your fantasies come true. If I can't have Alberich you can't have Martin. What about Hildebrand?”

“Hildebrand Holmes? No. What about John Jr? One of them at least, I mean you've got six whole kids.”

“There is only one John. I'm not making a child of mine a junior! I'll concede to someday in the distant future to agreeing to a John II but not this time. What about Marcella for a girl's name.”

“Put it on the list. Wolfgang?”

“John we are absolutely not naming any child of ours Wolfgang, Wolfgard, Wolf anything. Let's just make that clear right now.”

“Amanda?”

“Well I actually do like that one.”

“Wendy.”

“No. Eulele? Prisca? Morcant? Kuno?”

“Are you making those up?”

“John really. We are naming a whole new generation of werewolves. Their names need to be dignified, weighty. I'm not going to raise Billy's and Mindy's, let me make THAT point perfectly clear.”

“What about Joey?”

“If I birth a kangaroo then definitely. Ophelia?”

“Mmm too suicide-y. Beatice?”

“Acceptable but only because of the Shakespearean connection and I know you only know because you saw that DVD last year. Vance?”

“Sounds like Lance. No. George?”

“It can go on the think list. Douglas?”

“Isn't that from the radio show you claim to never have listened to?”

“The lines were amusing.”

“Is that why you won't use the name Martin?”

“Forget Douglas, moving on.”

“You'll want a daughter named Carolyn I presume.”

“Shut up.”

“I'm not opposed to the name Arthur.”

“I said shut up.” The suite was finally right in front of them. Pushing the door open John took Sherlock's hand and escorted his husband inside, shutting the door firmly behind them for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had to know I was going to do it. I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Come on, 11 new babies? The Holmes families need their blue blood freshened up with some good solid genes. Some of you clever monkeys have been guessing my storyline in advance. I'm impressed. I like an audience that's not easy to surprise. Clever clever clever.
> 
> The bit with the shaving. Check out pictures of Mark Gatiss - his legs really are amazing.
> 
> If you didn't catch the clues at the end the names John was teasing Sherlock about are for the crew of Gertie. If you haven't caught the show before listen to Cabin Pressure on BBC 4. Yes I'm one of those people who's just a little more fanatical about Ben's work than average. I know it all.
> 
> So.....there are eleven buns to name and we have no idea what the genders are. I have ONE name picked out. You saw the restrictions - no obvious Wolf names and nothing too lowbrow for Sherlock who is just a bit more pretentious than he likes to admit. The comment section is open. Let's see what the world provides. I don't care where the name originates as long as it has an interesting meaning. What would Greg and John choose vs Sherlock and Mycroft......and......go:


	16. Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John have a big family growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait between installments and faithfully promise that you won't have to wait this long again. Here's some smut to tide you over.

Sherlock was pregnant - hugely pregnant. Only a month after their pups had separated and spread out both Mycroft and Sherlock had grown massively. Each child was on its proper growth curve. That meant each man was carrying enough developing baby to weigh at least as much as a full term fetus. They had barely finished the first trimester.

The brothers were huge.

Gargantuan.

Completely happy.  
Sherlock took to pregnancy now. He was content and while not exactly placid he was indeed substantially calmer than he had been in the beginning. John was very relieved. Sherlock doted on John now, his demanding attitudes and unreasonable temper now completely absent. He was a happy, gravid omega who was completely in love with his devoted alpha.

John was over the moon. He had no idea he had a pregnancy kink but he did. Every day Sherlock’s belly jutted a little more. John woke each morning and ran his hands over that ever expanding mass. He kissed Sherlock’s belly all over, leaning in to listen to the fetuses. After a period of time where John simply loved his omega and his children John would slowly cave to his basic nature and become aroused.

John was torn when he was like this. He wanted to treat Sherlock with reverence, respect, dignity. He also wanted Sherlock on his back twenty-four hours a day, legs in the air with that big round belly facing upwards while John rode his lover for hours. John wanted everyone to know what a good alpha he was, how proud he was of his unusual and brilliant omega and at the same time John wanted Sherlock to remain naked forever just so John could exult in the developing changes he witnessed.

Conveniently for John Sherlock was in a state of increased excitation. Being gravid had done something to Sherlock’s internal chemistry and he was lusty most of the time. Indeed John found it more and more difficult to manage his work because Sherlock had absolutely no problem simply disrobing at any moment to waddle to their bed. It was an invitation John never refused.

It turned out to be marvelous to have a rather talented pack of their own to support them. Seamlessly, all their pack mates took up one duty after another, assiduously learning everything they could about the matters they would now take responsibility for. The various skills and talents of each wolf was weighed and balanced until everyone had sorted themselves out. John had as much free time as he needed and Sherlock had entirely given up even trying to go to work though he did still come up with many ideas, most of which he handed over to his research department for exploration.

Betas from everywhere flocked to Sherlock and Mycroft. They couldn’t seem to help themselves. No matter the distance, the age of the wolves, how many pack mates they needed to travel with the brothers attracted betas until there was a plenitude of them. Baskerville was overflowing. Mycroft made some decisions, used a tiny piece of their available capital and bought dozens of local properties to go with the ones they already owned. They housed the new packs in them and Titania set up a rota for the betas to tend to the brother’s needs.

On days where John did have to work Sherlock would lounge with Mycroft. The pregnant brothers were harmonious with one another, each man too involved in the gestation of their broods, too filled with maternal hormones to wish to continue their childish bickering. They indulged in long complicated dialogues with one another instead. Most of the betas who tended them understood not a thing the brothers discussed, finding it impossible to follow along as Sherlock and Mycroft played intellectual leapfrog for hours at a time.

They were discussing politics. Normally Sherlock didn’t care for the subject but now that he was expecting Sherlock found a he had a vested interest in global concerns. His pups needed a safe place to grow in. The world had become a hazardous place, filled with war and misery, driven by greed and avarice. Mycroft and Sherlock decided to change that.

John was a little skeptical when they told him their solution. “You want to make money obsolete?” they nodded as this was the most obvious explanation in the world and were willing to leave John with only that. John stared at them for a minute before Sherlock flushed and began to actually explain what they wanted.

“You’ll find that the distribution of wealth has been the driving force for nearly all social change throughout history. In no part of recorded history has the need to accumulate and hoard wealth not been a part of plans for conquest or exploration. War is a constant. Greed is a constant. We believe we can introduce appropriate changes to mitigate the need for wealth at all leaving all of humanity with the time and peace needed to work on more cerebral pursuits like science and the arts. We are about to embark on a space age, we can’t keep clubbing one another over the head for the shiny thing we found in the river. It’s time to evolve.” Sherlock sounded very certain.

“You want all of humanity to evolve as a species when you yourself were acting like a five year old not one month ago?” said John who was a little overwhelmed at the entire concept. He needed to sit down because he knew that Sherlock and Mycroft could do this if they had enough time and time was something they had plenty of.

“That was pregnancy hormones John. I can’t be held responsible for that! Think of it this way, our pack, our loved ones, all of our wolves. We take care of them, we don’t expect anything back from them for doing this. They don’t need to give us money for us to want to take care of them. No one except the humans receive anything like a salary. No one needs it. We provide everything, anything they need. People are happy, content because their worries have been mitigated. They have shelter, good food, their children are safe and being educated to the highest standards and there are opportunities for them to explore, options they’ve never had before to learn, to contribute, to matter. Why not expand that, spread that idea around until it’s all over the place? I know it seems idealistic right now but humanity was meant for so much more. Remaining here on earth isn’t our destiny and when we do take to the stars and go into the darkness we need to bring a light with us, our light.” Sherlock was passionate about this. 

John reached out and took his husband’s hand. “I don’t know how you’ll manage it but if anyone can it’s you two.” Sherlock smiled as John praised him. He began stroking his belly suggestively, trailing his long fingers up and over the distended flesh provocatively. All around them betas began to exit their suite discretely with Mycroft, leaving the lovers with their privacy. John’s eyes were fixed on Sherlock’s long pale fingers and the pregnant man smiled wickedly. John almost moaned, “Sherlock.”

Sherlock got himself up off his sofa somehow. With a flick of those elegant digits he opened the voluminous robe he had been wrapped in and let it fall to the floor. John just drooled. Sherlock’s belly was so big. It was so round and heavy. Sherlock’s body remained slender and narrow but somehow he bore this massive jutting fleshy container of tiny people with grace.

John let his eyes wander up and down his now lush omega. Sherlock turned himself around slowly, pivoting carefully to let his alpha see all of him in his swollen glory. The sounds already coming from John were extremely gratifying, “Stop.” Sherlock’s back was to John.

John stepped forward and ran his fingers down Sherlock’s beautiful spine. His omega had put on a very fine layer of flesh, just a bare thickening that now covered his bony frame with soft tenderness. Sherlock’s hips had widened slightly in preparation for the eventual delivery, his physical adjustment including the gradual change of his pelvic bone to something similar to a human woman.

Shedding his clothes quickly John stepped forward and allowed Sherlock to lean his weight against him while John’s hands began to wander over Sherlock’s chest and ribs. Sherlock had four very tiny nubs that had slowly emerged down his ribcage below his nipples, two on each side. They were no bigger than small moles, slightly staggered in relation to one another, the flesh flat and hard around them. They were extremely sensitive and Sherlock would sigh if John caressed them gently.

John found it easy to bear Sherlock up though the weight of him should have been challenging. It seemed that the further along Sherlock got the stronger his alpha became. John set his feet firmly and allowed his hands to trace over his omega blissfully. Sherlock’s head slowly tilted back and he sighed happily as John’s touch both aroused and calmed him.

“On the bed beautiful,” urged John with tenderness. He could hold Sherlock all night but he wanted more than just simple caresses. “I want to see you on your knees.”

Sherlock gave John a sultry smile over his shoulder and waddled off to their bedroom slowly. John followed him, his eyes glued to that magnificent posterior which was even riper than ever, begging to be touched. Sherlock crawled slowly onto the bed, putting on a bit of a show for his alpha. 

Sherlock’s belly hung low. Positioned as he was it nearly touched the bed already. Sherlock’s knees were spread wide and his back arced as he held himself in place while John simply admired him. Sherlock loved this, loved the reverent devotion that John displayed every time he laid eyes on Sherlock’s pregnant body.

The small furled bud of Sherlock’s entrance remained pink and virginal looking. John stroked his fingers around it, teasing Sherlock gently before beginning to caress Sherlock everywhere. Sherlock cooed as John’s fingers traced all the lines and curves he could reach. It wasn’t long before John’s mouth joined his hands. John tasted Sherlock slowly, savoring his skin all over, delighting in the textures and flavors of his omega. Sherlock’s scent was richer, deeper. John inhaled ecstatically as he roamed over the vastness of Sherlock’s body, losing himself to the alpha part of his brain.

Gently John helped Sherlock to his back. The omega groaned as the weight shifted. It wouldn’t be long before they couldn’t do even this so John planned on enjoying Sherlock as much as possible while he could. John worshiped Sherlock’s long shapely legs. Sherlock had been unhappy with the overly generous lengths of his limbs but John found it to be simply the sexiest thing in the world, nearly as sexy as Sherlock’s ass.

Sherlock handed John the bottle of lube. He kept it handy all the time. His sexual demands on John had become extensive, so much so that John didn’t wait to prepare Sherlock. He just slicked himself heavily and began to push inward. Sherlock sighed happily, his toes pointing to the ceiling as John filled him. Licking his lips John took Sherlock’s legs and hooked them over his shoulders close to his neck and began to move slowly.

Sherlock moaned deeply, the vibration of his deep voice making the hairs on John’s body want to stand up. John paced himself. Sherlock was a demanding lover and would want this to last as long as possible. Carefully John swiveled his hips or rocked back and forth gently. Sometimes he did something Sherlock especially enjoyed and the omega would ask John to repeat the motion over and over again while Sherlock sighed and moaned softly. John would keep it up until Sherlock was satisfied then resumed thrusting to please himself.

John curled his arms around Sherlock’s legs to reach his hard round belly. Splaying his fingers wide John stroked carefully, toying with Sherlock’s navel, following the dark line of pigment that now ran from Sherlock’s pubic hair up to his belly button. He groaned has he felt his way over the protrusion he had helped create, this miracle that Sherlock was carrying for him, this incredible proof of love that told both men how perfect they were for one another.

John allowed his fingers to toy with the nascent nipples on Sherlock’s ribs, carefully teasing them. They were all very sensitive and Sherlock could not bear for John to play roughly with them. His original nipples very much enjoyed rough handling so John alternated between delicate fluttering touches and hard twisting pinches until Sherlock was writhing beneath him.

Sherlock began to emit a wider array of pheromones, needy ones. The alpha in John took over nearly completely now. He had an omega that needed satisfying and every primal part of John’s being was entirely on board with the request. John stopped toying with Sherlock and began to ride him a little harder. In cautious increments John increased his efforts until at long last he was moving fast and freely, Sherlock keening anxiously beneath him.

John felt his entire body become poised and ready. Sherlock was almost grunting each time John slammed hard into him, a rapturous expression on his face, eyes closed as Sherlock lost himself to the sensations he was experiencing. John felt himself tighten further. Licking his palm John took Sherlock in hand and began to stroke him strongly.

Sherlock gasped and began to cry out with each tug. His body began to tighten around John and it was simply too much. John passed the point of no return. The cry that was ripped from him was deep and guttural. Sherlock was panting and gasping, his hips beginning to jerk and twist as his come streaked out in sticky ropes to land on his hard belly as well as John’s fast moving hand. John drove himself rapidly, emptying himself with body shaking shudders.

John sat back on his heels, still buried inside Sherlock as his cock twitched and throbbed. His head fell back and John breathed his way through the shivers of ecstasy that rippled back and forth. Sherlock stretched his long arms far above his head and sighed with deep contentment, “Absolutely perfect John.” He sighed happily. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

John pulled away carefully and helped Sherlock roll to his side. The omega made himself comfortable while John cleaned them both up. “Front or back?” Sherlock thought for a moment before patting his belly. John laid himself down facing Sherlock, his body curving protectively around his husband’s engorged belly. Both men reached an arm out to hold the other. Closing their eyes they let themselves drift off to sleep while their pups wiggled and grew deep inside, safe, loved and vital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've received some amazing names for the puppies! I mean babies. The babies have lots of names to choose from. Soon we will be finding out more about the little fur-babies. Isn't it exciting?


	17. Vuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are a Holmes thinking big is just an everyday occurrence.

Vuk was a problem. John didn’t know what to do with the man. He’d been imprisoned for years now, a model inmate. He’d been briefly troublesome in the beginning but Greg had sorted that out. John had been thinking of Vuk more and more. He was trying to decide what to do with him.

John could not simply release the wolf. He was a mad-dog who needed a leash and a firm master. John didn’t want to keep Vuk locked away for eternity either. How long should he hold onto the ex-Khagan? He discussed it with Mycroft and Sherlock but was extremely displeased with their response. “I’m not going to just kill him.” John was firm.

“Then why did you ask us? You had to know what we’d say. He tried to rape me John. He had me tied up like a dog, spread wide and he was going to try and cover your bond bite with his! Kill him!” Sherlock was serious. John glared at his omega. Sherlock began to rub his belly protectively.

“I don’t want to resort to capital punishments with werewolves Sherlock! Or anyone really.” They were going to visit Patrick for another check-up.

“I don’t know anyone who wants Vuk alive! Just kill him and be done with it.” Sherlock was being sulky and stubborn. Titania was in the room, a sheaf of reports in her hand. Mycroft was just leaving from his check-up.

Titania came up to Sherlock and bowed her head low the way she still did, especially when she had something important to ask. “Khan, with greatest respect, I do not wish Vuk to die. I will take him.”

Sherlock gaped at her then closed his mouth. His sulkiness evaporated and he looked interested, “Tell me why Titania.”

The small omega blushed but raised her head high. “He has given me a strong beautiful daughter. He has not been a good leader but he makes a strong mate. I will take him, tame him and make him a good man. There are few strong wolves left. I could do worse than to make children with Vuk.”

Sherlock looked thoughtfully at Titania. She had impressed both Holmes brothers over the years. She was intelligent, strong willed, diplomatic and steadfast. “I am willing if John allows it.” Sherlock said finally. Titania bowed deeply, first to Sherlock and then to John.

She spread her arms wide in her most formal bow, her head almost below her knees as she sank down into a curtsy. “Khagan, I formally request the life of Vuk to be made mine, to take him as my mate, to make him the father of my children to whom the Khan has promised eternity.”

John was very surprised by this. As far as he knew Titania had spent no time with Vuk while he had been imprisoned. It had taken Ethan and Patrick a very long time to let go of the fear they used to experience all the time. Siofra and Ilva loved their children very much but both had stated several times that they wished no more young and also spent no time with their former keeper. “Are you very sure Titania?”

Titania stood tall. “Delta is beautiful, brilliant and human. She will fade with time. I wish her to have brothers and sisters to grow with, to love her all her days until the end. I want children who can continue with me, holding the memory of their oldest sister in their minds to comfort me. Vuk can give me full brothers and sisters for Delta. This is what I wish. I am accustomed to Vuk and his ways. I was his bond-mate for nearly seventy years. I know his faults as well as his strengths. I know I can do this.”

“If Sherlock has no objection then I give you my permission Titania. You may do as you please with Vuk. His life is now yours.” Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, now indifferent to the fate of his captor. Titania was wily and capable. She had grown and learned much since she had joined them. If she said she could change Vuk then John believed her.

“Would you do the honors of presenting him to me Khan?” asked Titania breathlessly. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. John smiled over to Sherlock who looked fondly at the little omega. Sherlock nodded again so John did as well. Sherlock didn’t even object to her use of his hated title.

Patrick had remained silent through the entire exchange, his face ashen. Titania went to him, “Pack brother. I do not do this to grieve you. I am from an older world, one that demands and respects strength and not virtue. Have no fear gentle one. I will not allow my pet to indulge in his old ways. He will be a good dog.” She promised this firmly and Sherlock grinned hugely. Vuk was in for a very surprising change of lifestyle. Patrick embraced Titania hard, his face still very worried. “He hurt you many times but he will never hurt you again. If he frees himself from my grasp I swear on my blood that I will allow you, Ethan and the Khagan to hunt him down and end him utterly.”

Patrick stood up and nodded firmly. He accepted Titania’s decision and promise. “I will stand with you Sister.” Titania took Patrick’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “We should tell Ethan. He will be distraught.”

John excused them to do so and Sherlock came to John, rubbing his belly as he always did now. “I don’t know if this is a good idea or a bad one Sherlock. We can’t keep him caged for eternity. We can’t let him go completely. Titania wants to do this. It’s the best solution.” Sherlock said nothing but also did not argue. John opened his arms and Sherlock stepped into them, allowing his alpha to comfort him. “We’ll assign some of the new betas to help Titania. Vuk will have to earn his trust from each and every one of us.”

Titania had obviously been considering this action for a long time. When John and Sherlock arrived at the far wing of the facility she was waiting there with Patrick and Ethan. In her hands was a wide broad collar with a heavy lock on it. “For my pet.” She held it up. Her name was etched into the black leather with scarlet script. Titania pointed to a deep curve with a slash through it. “This is your sigil Khagan, the crescent moon. I use this to show Vuk that he is under your control as well as mine. He will know from the first minute that defying me is defying you.”

Vuk was removed from his chamber and was knelt in front of them by two stern looking betas who had volunteered to be his keepers. Sherlock walked until he was two paces in front of Vuk. “I, Khan Sherlock, declare this werewolf, known to all as Vuk, former Khagan as the property and mate to Titania, third omega of the Hounds of Baskerville. Vuk, you will obey Titania in all things, keep her safe and content to the best of your ability, father her children, provide succor in times of want and never betray your blood or your pack upon pain of death. As witnesses I bring Ethan and Patrick who have sworn to join Khagan John should you at any time break your covenant with your mate. Survive your training Vuk and perhaps one day there will be honor for you.”

Titania stepped close. Sherlock took the collar from her and bound it tightly to Vuk’s neck. The wolf bared his teeth for a moment but otherwise did nothing to protest. There was nothing he could say or do. Sherlock had kept him all these years and Vuk had expected to die all this time. Now he was being given a chance to mate and produce children, to be everything the alpha in him wanted to be. When the collar was locked Vuk stood up and looked down at tiny Titania. She simply turned on her heel and walked away, Vuk obediently following after her.

Sherlock watched them leave and then turned to the others. “Well I didn’t expect THAT today.” Patrick and Ethan were holding one another, both men with their faces buried in each other’s neck. Vuk had tortured and raped both of them extensively during their time with him. Patrick had managed to work his way through his trauma. For him working with the children and parents was very healing. Ethan though had isolated himself with Sherlock, rarely leaving the labs for any reason. He took no mate, no temporary partner and only socialized occasionally during large group activities that occurred regularly around Baskerville.

Sherlock went to his friend and surprised Ethan with an embrace. Sherlock never hugged anyone but John or Mrs. Hudson. “I’m sorry Khan. I will try to be brave.” Ethan was sniffling a bit. His eyes were wide and he smelled frightened. Sherlock ignored the use of his title.

“You don’t need to be brave. You have every right to your feelings and I myself am not easy with knowing he is loose. We have to have faith in our pack Ethan. They will protect us, John will protect us. The Khagan had no wish to restrain Vuk forever nor did he wish to kill Vuk though I would have done so with ease. Titania is a strong individual. We must support her efforts, for her sake and Delta’s.”

Everyone loved Delta. She was the most popular child in the facility. She made friends with everyone, led all the children in their games and excelled at everything she tried. When Ethan was reminded of the small girl he softened. “I’ll be brave for Delta. She and the others will not be with us for long. You’re right Sherlock. I will trust the pack and John.” Sherlock smiled down at his friend, gave Ethan another squeeze and then let him depart with the others. John took Sherlock’s arm and escorted his omega back to their suite.

John was silent while they walked. By the time they were shut safely away inside their rooms John was ready to speak. “This project of yours, the one to make money obsolete, if money were no longer a driving force do you suppose people like Vuk would still happen?”

Sherlock thought carefully before replying. “I think that there are people who will always make the worst choices regardless of the situation. I think that there will always be violence, hatred, intolerance and war. I think that even though that may be true that we need to try anyway. Humanity is in the brink of either extermination or glory. Humans are destroying themselves one advance at a time. We need to help them, help ourselves. What I want is impossible I know but it still has to be better than what we have now. We can’t count how many wars are going on right this very moment around the world. We have no way of knowing how many crimes are being committed out of desperation, how many millions or even billions of people who are suffering when there is absolutely no need for it. Is what I want so inconceivable? For every living being to have food to eat, a place to rest safely, a chance to grow and learn something new?” 

“No love. It’s not inconceivable. I hear what you say and I understand. Do what you need to do Sherlock, you and Mycroft both. I’m sure you have a plan in mind.” Sherlock smiled gently down at his doting alpha. John was helping Sherlock sink into the sofa carefully. 

“You are a good man John Watson. I want a better world for your children. I want more than what’s available, to be able to provide our sons and daughters with a haven to flourish in, the Eden it should have been.” Sherlock grew serious and looked up at John. “I’m beginning the project all over again, as soon as I deliver. I want to see if we can save the delta babies. Maybe there’s some way now that we have found a path to save the unborn.”

John felt a tension leave his chest. It was a tightness that he hadn’t even noticed was there. “You are the good man Sherlock Holmes. Whatever you need to do, you do it. Tell me how I can help.”

“We’ll need to expand John. We can’t remain sequestered in Baskerville. So many wolves have been trained in the last few years but it’s only the bare beginnings of my dream. We need to spread out, become entrenched globally in order to have real impact. We can’t dig in and change just England or even just the EU. We need to cover the planet with a werewolf infrastructure, something long term and reliable so we can direct the kind of changes that are needed. If we focus on one country at a time our cause is hopeless. We need to do it all, everywhere.” You couldn’t accuse Sherlock of dreaming small.

“We only have a few hundred werewolves Sherlock. The babies we’ve changed won’t be mature enough to be helpful for almost two decades. What are your suggestions?” All these questions and more needed answers.

“We allow all existing wolves to change one valuable person. It CANNOT be forced! We will need to come up with an approval process even before we allow their intended to know what might be happening. That’s the first part of the solution, the easiest part. The second part is finding out how to help all the deltas that are out there. There must be hundreds, thousands maybe. What about the grandchildren or great-grandchildren? Would we be able to save them somehow without them needing to be bitten? We have the shortest regeneration time of all wolves when it comes to our venom. When Ethan first found out mine grew back after only three months he was astounded! Most wolves have to wait at least a year.” John wondered how long Sherlock and Mycroft had been working on this idea. It sounded very complicated. “Once we have enough people we can begin spreading out and taking over key positions and organizations planet-wide. We need to be in control of governments, military, science, everything, absolutely everything.”

“That’s an incredible goal Sherlock! What are you going to do with all that military and government power?” John couldn’t even imagine what the Holmes brothers could do with that kind of power.

“Dismantle it all of course. Every single one of them is a dysfunctional blight on humanity. Unless its destiny is war no organization flourishes in this world today! The sciences are stifled unless they produce war worthy products from their work. It’s not right! There is no government on the entire planet that is efficacious. We need to come up with something better, something stable, something that will actually HELP people instead of enslaving them.” Well John could see that Sherlock was very, very serious. He sat back and let Sherlock begin a long and very detailed explanation. 

Far in another wing of the facility a tall dark man was being knelt in the center of a room. A heavy leather collar at his throat let him know he was owned. The man thought he would mind, that being owned would rankle him. It didn’t. He looked up at his owner. Even on his knees he could almost look her in the eye. Her face was ice but her eyes burned. She leaned in and kissed his mouth softly. “Today you begin learning what it means to be a good dog. You will accept my training because when it is done I will reward you with a child. We will mate and breed so I may show my offspring that I have made a wise choice, that my mate is a good and honorable wolf and not a rabid dog.” Vuk nodded slowly. This was what he wanted. To be a good mate, to have his offspring look at him with love and pride. He’d tried to make a pack and failed miserably. Leadership had not suited him though he had been strong. To show his acceptance Vuk bent his head low, nearly touching the floor as he began to honor Titania. The full moon was two weeks away. If he was very good, perhaps his owner would allow him to commit himself to her, to offer her the proper bond he’d kept from her for so many decades. Vuk bowed low a second time and became resolute. He would have honor and Titania would bear his many children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh all these clues, all these subtle hints - what am I doing?


	18. Enceinte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is an alpha and as such has certain instincts that need obeying.

Tipping the small glass container slowly John dribbled a palm full of scented oil onto his hand. He set the container down cautiously and resumed his task of massaging his pregnant omega lovingly. Sherlock lay on his side, his head propped up on a pillow with his eyes closed. John wasn’t sure if Sherlock had fallen asleep yet but he didn’t stop. John wasn’t done yet, not by a long ways. Once his handful was smoothed on John picked up the container yet again and poured another scented handful out.

Sherlock was massive. Now six months into his pregnancy Sherlock could barely move. Leaving the suite was entirely impossible and even leaving the bedroom had become a three person chore if Sherlock could even be convinced to leave the bed. John poured another handful of oil out and stroked it over his husband’s obscenely swollen abdomen.

Six babies, all of normal healthy weights had forced Sherlock’s body to swell insanely. It shouldn’t be possible for a person to be as pregnant as Sherlock was but there he lay in all his fecund glory. John thought Sherlock was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Gently he continued to smooth oil over Sherlock’s belly until the container was empty and John was finally finished.

Sherlock’s hair had grown out a lot so the curls seemed to be attempting to escape by crawling away from Sherlock’s head in all direction. The pillow beneath his head was big and puffy. John looked closer and grinned. Sherlock was very asleep and drooling the tiniest bit. Pulling a sheet over his omega John retreated quietly and went out front.

Mrs. Hudson was waiting there. She smiled brightly at John and he grinned back at her. “He’s napping right now.” John did not like people touching his omega but at this stage of his pregnancy John needed help. Mrs. Hudson was always acceptable. Betas still swarmed around and took care of everything else that needed to be done but anything that required Sherlock to be handled was for John and John alone unless he needed a hand and then only Mrs. Hudson would be permitted.

“We’ve filled the fridge and cupboards again. The freezer is full of premade meals, Timothy and Amand made those little pies Sherlock loves and all the supplies you asked for have been delivered. Tomorrow the decorators are coming in if that’s alright and we’ll begin remodeling the front room as soon as Sherlock approves of the plans.” Mrs. Hudson was having the time of her life. Planning for the comfort of John and Sherlock’s children was the culmination of her entire life-experience, as if Mrs. Hudson had lived her entire existence simply to prepare for this role.

Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson spent weeks making decisions about everything the babies would need. Sherlock didn’t want his little ones in the crèche with all the others. He was covetous of his unborn children and the idea of having them further than arms reach was repugnant to him. Now John had been required to order multiple sets of cribs as well as various other pieces of specialized furniture. When the children were born the excess of betas would be very useful. They would need all the helping hands they could get and Mrs. Hudson was in charge of choosing the lucky assistants.

Mrs. Hudson and Ian had a sixth sense about the people they met. Mrs. Hudson had an unerring nose for troubled people who simply needed a nice hug and some affection. Ian could sniff out the darkness in people, knew which souls needed to be watched because their natures would eventually lead them to do harm. The devoted couple were the unofficial people barometers of Baskerville. People listened when they offered their friendly advice.

John knew he could trust the happy pairing to choose for him. Sherlock of course would make the final decision but at least he would be vetting from a select list instead of crowds of volunteers. “What about the surprise?”

“It will be ready by the time Sherlock makes it back from his prenatal appointment. The wheeled bed is in the hallway.” There was no way Sherlock could walk all the way to the infirmary. He complained about it but Sherlock was now taken there on a hospital bed, wheeled through the corridors in a small procession of betas and John. Tomorrow John planned to use the time out of the suite to have a little something set up.

Mrs. Hudson checked around the suite before waving goodnight to John. John refilled his oil container from a large receptacle, picked out some meals for Sherlock to try and went back to the bedroom to check on his mate. Sherlock was just beginning to emerge from his latest nap.

Sherlock was having a wonderful day. He loved the feel of John’s hands as the alpha rubbed his ripe belly. Sherlock had never felt so calm, so at peace. Each day he grew larger and larger. He was never bored, how could he be? He had six individuals growing inside him. Sherlock had a whole new wing of his mind palace for nothing but pregnancy. The daily changes needed to be cataloged and monitored so Sherlock happily spent the hours of his day tracking the movements of his pups, their growth and development, his own physical changes and absolutely everything he could observe about the entire experience.

Sherlock was a very happy omega. He felt like his life’s purpose had been fulfilled, that he was doing what he was always meant to do and that was to bear John’s children. Sherlock could not wait. After a lot of discussion and suggestions they’d narrowed the list of potential names to a longish list. Sherlock insisted that middle names be as dignified as their first names which made John a tiny bit testy until Sherlock agreed that nicknames were free game. After that compromise John became much more amenable to the sorts of names Sherlock and Mycroft found acceptable.

Greg didn’t care. “Name them whatever you want. My little ankle-biters will be smart and beautiful. They can carry off any name you can think of.” Greg was as devoted an alpha as John was. The rough and sometimes uncouth man found tending his upper-class omega somewhat of a challenge but Greg had known what he was getting into when he got involved with Mycroft years ago. With the advantage of blending his relationship with Mycroft was very near flawless. 

Mycroft was as big as Sherlock. Unlike his lithe brother Mycroft had gained a much greater amount of weight on his body. Though he carried one less babe he was still as big as Sherlock. It was the only part of the pregnancy that Mycroft envied. Sherlock looked lean and vibrant, even with his vastly swollen stomach. Mycroft looked puffy all over but tried to bear it with grace as Sherlock simply became lovelier as the weeks passed by.

John was very proud of Sherlock. His mate was doing incredibly well being house-bound. John had feared a return of the petulant whining as Sherlock’s mobility became less and less. Instead Sherlock was deeply occupied with his pregnancy, talking to their unborn children, singing them songs and observing every minute flutter and shift. When Sherlock saw the expression on John’s face he blushed prettily, his dual nature fighting with itself as the omega in him preened and the Holmes in him tried to appear unaffected.

John was the best alpha in the world. The only time he wasn’t actively tending Sherlock was while he slept and for the few brief hours he shifted into a wolf during the height of the full moon. Even then he kept his promise to keep Sherlock’s feet warm and cuddled up to his omega until he was able to shift back and hold Sherlock properly. John told Sherlock that it was nice to be petted too. Sherlock’s fingers were long and carded through John’s fur in a very pleasing way. Sherlock had blushed at that compliment too.

Sherlock was happy when he made John happy. Before they had become werewolves Sherlock probably would not have appreciated knowing he would react like that. So much had changed in Sherlock’s world view since they changed. It felt good to be bonded to John, to know that John was tied to him in such a way that leaving Sherlock was a concept so alien to John that he couldn’t even approach the idea of it without feeling slightly ill. That made Sherlock very content. John was his and nobody else’s. No other alpha on the entire planet came close to matching his mate in magnificence. John was special.

Being pregnant was amazing. Feeling John’s children grow inside him felt fantastic. Sherlock had thought he would be uncomfortable but omegas were made to breed and so he lay there easily, content to let his brood swell and flourish in his womb. John cared for him tenderly, keeping Sherlock neat and fed, providing all sorts of entertainments to amuse his husband. John was incredible.

When they slept at night John always asked Sherlock where he should lay. Sometimes Sherlock wanted John to sleep against his back so John could hold him during the long dark hours. Other nights John would be asked to lay in front of Sherlock where he could be easily seen and where John would happily curve his body protectively around Sherlock’s vast belly, shielding his mate and his offspring from any possible threats. Sherlock loved being cared for by John.

The sex was incredible. Sherlock’s appetites had not decreased. Just because he could barely do more than roll to his other side didn’t mean John was incapable of kneeling behind Sherlock to fuck him into the mattress every single day. Sherlock demanded it and John being the good alpha that he was always obliged. John really was the best alpha in the world.

Sherlock found orgasms while he was pregnant to be in a category all of their own. Maybe it was the press of children against his insides or the increased intimacy he felt but when John made Sherlock come Sherlock could feel the echoes of the shuddering pleasure for as much as an hour after he came. It was hard to resist so he didn’t. After sex John would rub oil over Sherlock’s belly and let Sherlock recuperate with a brief nap. Now that the omega was awake he felt hungry and incredibly thirsty.

“I’ve got some meals waiting in the kitchen darling and a pitcher of that juice you like now. Would you like a big glass?” John’s warm fond smile was the absolute best thing in the world to wake up to. Sherlock smiled and nodded agreeably so John went to get him a drink. As Sherlock sipped happily from a straw John went to heat up the food, bringing back a selection on a large tray. He called out the items and Sherlock chose the things that interested him.

Sherlock’s diet was a bit of a challenge. Their babies were very demanding. John had consulted with Patrick as well as the growing congregation of betas and had come up with a series of meals. They tested them out on Sherlock. He liked nearly everything but couldn’t decide until it was mealtime. Then their children would give Sherlock a yes or no response by way of kicking his innards until he stopped eating anything they found unworthy.

It was a pet project of the betas. People set up a test kitchen in one of the labs and they spent time crafting different meals together for Sherlock to taste. Anything he found palatable would be mass produced and tucked into meal-sized servings in John’s new stand up freezer. Feeding the Khan was a challenging task, only slightly less so than feeding Mycroft who was finally becoming difficult.

Sherlock got incredibly hungry very quickly. When he decided to eat John needed to have a lot of food on hand and ready to go. With a little effort they could still get Sherlock partially reclined if they stacked enough pillows and cushions behind him. Then he could feed himself, his plate settled on his bump. When he was lazy he let John feed him, a task that John found very pleasing indeed. Both men were enjoying themselves.

The meal was long and leisurely. By the time their unborn decided momma had had enough nearly every plate John had prepared was empty and the pitcher of juice was dry. Sherlock lay back and heaved a sigh of contentment. “Ready for a wash-up?” Sherlock smiled up at John’s warm tone and nodded.

It took a lot of effort but John got Sherlock on his feet. John’s astounding physical strength helped the omega make it to the large shower they’d had installed. Sherlock felt the weight and press of his children strain his lower abdomen but as long as John was there to balance him he found he could still walk carefully. 

There was a wide bench in their shower now and after he used the facilities awkwardly, Sherlock was seated on it. Sherlock dreaded the moment he wouldn’t be able to use the bathroom anymore but decided to not think of that yet. John helped him arrange himself then turned the shower on. Warm water cascaded down almost instantly. Sherlock enjoyed the first momentary shock of cold water, it made his skin tingle and the gasp of surprise was always filled with pleasure. 

John handed Sherlock a soapy flannel and the omega washed his body wherever he could reach. John took another and washed everywhere else. Sherlock was still incredibly flexible and lifted one leg and then the other high above his head for John to wash his feet. John giggled every time Sherlock did this which is why Sherlock kept doing it. The omega’s ability to bend was worthy of the most highly trained contortionist and was a skill he’d had all on his own, having nothing to do with being a werewolf or an omega. John loved it.

By the time the shower was done Sherlock was drowsy all over again. This was his life right now, eating, sleeping and growing their babies. John rubbed lotion all over his omega before leading him back to the bed. Someone had changed the sheets and fluffed up the pillows while they were washing. It smelled like Ian so Mrs. Hudson and he must be on standby. John tucked Sherlock in, kissing his omega who as asleep nearly as soon as his head touched the pillow. 

Ian was waiting out front, a huge smile on his face. He was very proud of his new life and his relationship with Mrs. Hudson. Both wolves now looked of an age to one another, not that Ian had cared. The second he’d laid eyes on the beta he had been irrevocably interested. He was an omega but such an unusual one. He didn’t want children, not at all. He liked doing what he did, which was be a part a large successful pack. He fussed over Sherlock a lot and had come by with breakfast cookies for the morning. “I just baked these. They’re called Bird Seed Cookies. Not real bird seed of course but all the extras have lots of oils and minerals. Sherlock should like them. I put extra sugar in them.”

Ian handed John a shopping bag filled with scarves. One at a time John took them out and smelled them carefully. He nodded and handed the bag back to Ian, careful not to let it touch the table or any of the furnishings. “It won’t take long. The cleaning betas will come in directly after to make sure.” John nodded and with a smile Ian retreated.

John checked the suite to make sure it was spotless and ready for the next time Sherlock woke up. He pulled out a new selection of meals to defrost on the counter and locked the door, bolting it as well before checking the suite one more time, even pulling open closet doors and feeling around the wardrobe to make sure no one was hiding. He couldn’t help himself. John wanted to protect Sherlock. When he was satisfied that nothing more dangerous was laying secretly in wait John undressed himself and lay behind his husband. He held Sherlock closely, resting his arm across Sherlock’s vast belly. Secure and happy with his mate John let himself fall asleep.

The next morning after a very hearty breakfast John helped a complaining Sherlock onto the bed. Getting him out of the suite took two of his attending betas assisting John to manage. After he had been safely arranged and draped decorously with lengths of brilliant fabric Sherlock allowed himself to be rolled away for his appointment.

The second they left the wing a flood of people poured into John and Sherlock’s suite. The sounds of electric drills and busyness filled the air for fifteen anxious minutes. Then there was a dual stream of people entering and exiting the flat, everyone carrying handfuls of things in and out. After another exchange of bodies the smells of chemical cleaners and then gentle odor neutralizers filled the air. The last wave of people finally exited and left nothing but anticipation behind.

John and Sherlock returned with their flock of betas swarming around the bed, rolling Sherlock carefully back to his rooms. They approached the door and John grinned down at Sherlock who was staring at it. “John! Our numbers!” John had someone find the exact same model of house numbers that graced their home on Baker Street. Their suite was now labeled 221 B, door knocker and mailbox included. Sherlock laughed with delight and pulled John down for a kiss. “This is fantastic!” Sherlock was very happy with the small change.

They rolled him inside. John was nervous. He wasn’t completely sure Sherlock would like this next surprise. “John is that a flat screen TV?”

“Not just a television love. It’s a computer monitor. It’s networked around the facility so you can visit anyone you want who is also on the network, go online to browse or do whatever or even actually watch television. It comes with a control pad, see?” John handed Sherlock a touch screen tablet. “That’s not all love, look.”

Sherlock was brought back to their bedroom. There was another screen on the wall. “You don’t have to be out front at all and you can still be entertained.”

Sherlock was thrilled. He immediately logged into the networked and dialed up Mycroft who had been waiting for his brother. They grinned at each other. It had been difficult for them to visit now that both men were so large and they had grown quite close during their pregnancy. “John this is incredible! This is the best surprise ever! This is just like those shows you love so much.”

John laughed. With the facility so connected it was indeed becoming very similar to the many sci-fi shows John used to enjoy watching. He had been worried that Sherlock would become too isolated. The man still had difficulties interacting with people and John didn’t want what few social skills Sherlock did have to atrophy. Now Sherlock would still be able to work with Ethan and the rest of his teams. Both men would benefit from the renewed contact. John felt proud as he saw how well received his gift was.

“Look you can still read all the facility reports on your projects. You have complete access to everything at Baskerville.” Sherlock had already begun to toy with the tablet in his hand, his eyes fixed on the large screen in front of him. John sat back and admired how Sherlock suddenly pulled up a diversity of information, splitting the screen into six separate segments so he could multi-task happily. 

“Thank you John! This is simply amazing.” John filled his eyes with the happy face of his omega. Leaning in John took a great big lungful of Sherlock’s alluring scent, kissing his long neck tenderly. Even though the cleaning staff had wiped every surface John could still smell the other alphas that had come into his suite to do the work. He recognized all of them from the scent samples Ian had brought last night so he was able to keep from reacting negatively to the fact that other alphas were in his den where his pregnant omega was supposed to be isolated. John took another big breath of Sherlock, soothing himself before he went to check the suite all over again.

The weeks now seemed to go by faster. Sherlock and Mycroft were both entirely unable to leave their beds. The brother’s spent huge portions of their free time visiting one another via their screens and partaking in meetings with various department heads as they found time weighing heavier on their hands. John was nearly as incapable as Sherlock when it came to leaving his home. John watched his omega intently, guarding Sherlock day and night. He kept a tense eye on all the betas that came and went, preparing their home for the arrival of the pups.

Sherlock was vast. He was three times his normal size and his body rippled constantly from the shifting pups within him. He was approaching his due date nervously and had demanded visits with Timothy time and time again. The shy omega talked Sherlock through the process repeatedly while Amand hid in the kitchen, too bashful to speak directly to the Khan. The man had grown more timid and not less as the years passed by, his bond with Timothy deepening.

Mrs. Hudson was bringing in more snacks for Sherlock. It was Sunday afternoon, close to tea time. Sherlock was giggling with John as his alpha possessively smoothed lotions over the ever-moving mass of pups. John was teasing Sherlock with silly nicknames he planned to call his imminent children and Sherlock was laughing helplessly. Mrs. Hudson had just bustled in to see if they needed a fresh pitcher of drinks when it happened.

A massive ripple began at the top of Sherlock’s massive bump and swept like the tide until it reached his hips. Sherlock gasped and for several long entirely silent minutes no one moved or said a word. It happened again. Once more it started at the top and seemed to squeeze Sherlock out. The omega groaned deeply and grabbed John’s hand as tightly as he could. “John! John….I think it’s starting.” John leaned over and kissed Sherlock hard. Both men were nervous and excited. Soon they would meet their children.

The screen flicked on and Greg’s face suddenly dominated the wall, “Myc’s started labour!” The alpha’s grinned and laughed but both stopped as soon as twin groans from the Holmes brothers ended the call. Mrs. Hudson buzzed around and called Patrick for Sherlock. Sidney was dispatched to Mycroft and soon there was a hallway full of excited betas.

The Holmes brothers were finally giving birth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enceinte - this word was introduced to the North American public on I Love Lucy. When Lucy was expecting it was improper to use normal terminology so they used this obscure label to mention the fact to the mystified viewers.


	19. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mycroft have gone into labor. Soon Baskerville will be filled with new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Leobutler, lab_girl, Varjoratsu, DragonMcBain, dilvin, Jadeturtle13, Psykedelikworld and Imogenfere for contributing the names chosen for this chapter. May the pups bear them with pride.

Sherlock thought it wasn’t so bad. Certainly it was uncomfortable but he didn’t see what all the fuss had been about. The contractions had begun strongly and he felt more than able to deal with the level of pain he was experiencing. He could do this.

A contraction rippled through him, squeezing his abdomen like a tube of toothpaste. “Not so bad.” Sherlock thought to himself. He was on his right side. He couldn’t help it. He’d been on his side for the last month at least. His belly was far too large for him to move. Sherlock looked like he was lying close to a very large flesh colored sleeping bag. In it shifted his six children, all lined up and ready to leave their warm haven.

An ache began to grow in his ribs and in his pelvis. It was slightly uncomfortable at first but with each ripple the ache grew deeper. Sherlock began to feel like his pelvis was going to split in two but only after his perineum ruptured. He groaned loudly now. The light waves of pressure had amplified and grown until the deep ache had become real pain. Labor was fully in swing.

People were buzzing around him but Sherlock couldn’t focus. He could smell John, could feel his alpha close by. John was rubbing Sherlock’s back in soothing circles while Patrick stood attendance. “Sherlock isn’t going to need very much help once he gets going John. He will need all the encouragement you can give him. Even if it all goes smoothly delivering six babies at once will drain him.”

Sherlock could hear Mrs. Hudson in the distance, barking out orders to whoever was in the living room turned nursery. The contraction subsided and Sherlock panted and tried to rest. “Darling? How are you holding up?” John was tenderly wiping Sherlock’s brow. Sherlock realized he’d popped with sweat from head to toe and hadn’t noticed.

“Great. Just great. My arse is ripping open and I feel like someone is driving repeatedly over me with a steam roller. It’s good.” Sherlock could not prevent himself from being snippy. The pain had built up gradually, slowly eroding his ability to put it out of his mind, to let it flow through him until it was gone.

Suddenly Sherlock could feel intense pressure low in his belly and echoing backward. He gasped and grunted, his whole body poised and ready. Patrick spoke calmly. “Good Sherlock. Breath. Breath. Don’t push yet. Wait. Focus on the pressure. Don’t focus on the pain. You’re going to want to push in a second. It’s going to feel odd, like you need the bathroom. That’s okay, your body knows what it wants to do, don’t fight it and you’ll be fine.”

Just then a huge contraction wrung Sherlock’s body like a rag and a pained groan dragged out. As soon as he could Sherlock shouted, “Who the fuck shits out a baby? What kind of advice is THAT Patrick!”  
Sherlock couldn’t speak anymore. He could only feel what was going on.

The pressure had built and built until Sherlock felt a warm trickle between his thighs. A bloody flux had emerged but Patrick just hummed soothingly and cleaned Sherlock up quickly. Sherlock panted as the contraction subsided but only for a moment because everything began to happen.

Sherlock felt the first child’s head engage in his never used birth canal. It was HUGE. What kind of children had John put in him? Bowling ball babies? The enormous head began to descend and Sherlock felt his body being forced wide open to grant it egress. Inch by agonizing inch the babe eased its way down his birth canal. Sherlock felt all the surrounding muscles begin to stretch away from the vastness of the baby’s head, stretching and stretching and stretching some more until there was nothing more to give but there was still need. Sherlock writhed as his body tore in a thousand tiny places and the baby’s head finally emerged.

Sherlock had wanted to watch as much as possible. He had wanted to see with his own eyes the delivery of his first born child. Instead his eyes snapped shut and stayed that way. John was having his hand crushed slowly as Sherlock’s long fingers tightened around them in a vice-grip. The alpha was trying to help Sherlock regulate his breathing, helping brace his leg so the child could pass a little easier. Sherlock hate him for a dark minute. This was all John’s fault! What kind of genes had Sherlock combined with his! Sherlock panted and tried to let the almost itchy pain recede. It was impossible. He needed to keep pushing, needed to get this thing out of him. “JUST RIP IT OUT!” he shouted angrily. Fuck this hurt.

One shoulder and then another popped out, sliding easily compared to that massive head. “Last chance to guess if it’s a boy or a girl.” Patrick stated happily. The first words their partially born child ever heard from his mother was a string of incredibly colorful curses. The baby slid the rest of the way out and Patrick crowed, “A boy!”

Sherlock tried to be excited. He had a son! He had given John a son. For a microscopic moment he was delighted but then a second bowling ball engaged and it began all over again. Sherlock groaned deeply. John wasn’t behind him now. He was doing something with the baby. Sherlock hazily recalled that John would be weighing and measuring the child, dealing with his umbilical cord and all manner of tasks. Right now Sherlock didn’t care. All he cared about was passing this next child.

Panting Sherlock bore down at Patrick’s command, focusing on his words as if his life depended on it. The haze of pain was steady now and somehow that made it more manageable. The child was descending rapidly, the birth of her brother preparing the way. Things became rather disjointed for Sherlock then. He remembered the baby’s head emerging and then the pain made him fuzz out too much and he couldn’t focus. He vaguely heard that the second child was a girl. A boy and a girl! Logically knew that there was had likely been a mix of genders but both he and John decided to wait until after delivery to find out that last piece of news.

The third child was following literally on the heels of his fresh born sister. Sherlock could hear John. His alpha was proud and joyful. The thought that he had made John so very happy flooded Sherlock with endorphins and the pain eased substantially. John came back and laid a warm diapered bundle to Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock’s first born son.

The boy nuzzled instinctively to Sherlock’s chest and latched easily. Sherlock felt his body react and was rewarded with another rush of endorphins as his colostrum nourished his infant. The tiny baby was bald as an egg, fat and oddly purplish, his head squashed looking and he was wrinkly, like a little old man that had spent far too much time in the bath, “He’s beautiful.” breathed Sherlock. 

The baby nursed for only a few minutes before he dropped off the nipple on his own and collapsed into a rubbery sack of sleeping baby. John gingerly scooped him up to swaddle the newborn and placed him in a cot. His sister was placed at Sherlock’s other nipple. Like her brother she latched easily and suckled until her next brother was born.

Sherlock’s massive belly was already retracting. By the time his fourth child was engaged the giant mass had reduced just like a deflating balloon, fitting around the remaining children tightly. Sherlock was exhausted. Each birth had been less painful than the last but the amount of effort it took never decreased. As the fourth child made its way down the birth canal Sherlock began to hope he could deliver and sleep at the same time. He was struggling to keep his eyes open despite the pain. Sherlock asked John how long it had been. “You’ve been in labor for almost ten hours now Sherlock.”

Ten hours of working as hard as he had ever worked in his life. No wonder he felt tired. He hadn’t realized so much time had gone by. He knew that other labors sometimes went on for much longer for a single child. John came over and gave him a small kiss. “You’re made for this love. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. Two more babies, just two more love. Then you can rest.” Sherlock was delivering their forth. Another son.

Only two. Sherlock felt lighter than he had in months. Well of course he was. His rational mind was coming back slowly. Sherlock felt the need to move. Awkwardly he got John to take the babies nursing at his chest and help Sherlock to his knees, his still swollen though incredibly smaller belly still hanging low. Sherlock braced himself on his hands, almost sighing with relief as all the pressure shifted and he became nearly comfortable.

The contractions were easier to manage in this position. It still hurt but Sherlock’s body was now fully able to just keep the children moving slowly outward. The fifth babe engaged and moved smoothly down Sherlock’s birth canal. The child passed almost easily into the world and then John and Sherlock had another son.

The last child was lazy and moved slowly down the birth canal as if reluctant to finally emerge when it was so roomy now. The babe stretched and lounged for the longest time before finally slowly descending. With a grateful grunt Sherlock managed to deliver the last child before collapsing wearily on his back. A daughter. Sherlock smiled with gentle joy and fell asleep just as John laid his last child to his breast.

For John the day was filled with joy and terror. Sherlock was in pain and John was desperate to help his omega. He tried to comfort Sherlock as the contractions grew worse. John felt helpless. There was absolutely nothing useful he could do beyond rubbing Sherlock’s back and trying not to annoy his laboring husband.  
Sherlock only slept for half an hour before waking up. John had swapped out the babies in pairs to nurse the precious colostrum until all six had fallen deeply asleep. Patrick washed Sherlock thoroughly as John cared for his children and husband. John was so proud.

All his children were beautiful. Not one of them had a single hair on them, all bald, fat and wrinkly. John had never seen such miracles. John was bursting with pride at Sherlock’s accomplishment. Sherlock was still soft in the middle, now appearing to be full term with a single child. His belly would continue to diminish as the hours passed by. By tomorrow Sherlock’s body would be hard and flat again.

The nascent nipples on his ribs were finally beginning to puff up a tiny bit as the children drew colostrum from Sherlock’s main nipples. After the babies woke up from their first nap they would be placed against one each to feed. John once again was overwhelmed with pride at what his amazing and incredible husband could do.

Patrick came over with a clip board and a huge grin. He had reviewed John’s notes. “All we’re missing are their names.” He said with a smile.

“My first son will be known as Lucas Darcy Watson-Holmes.” Sherlock’s voice was weak but still rich with love. The omega smiled over to his alpha.

“My first daughter will be named Isabel Cristiana Watson-Holmes.” John’s voice was also rich with love and devotion to his family. Patrick smiled and carefully noted the names down.

“My second son shall be known as Benson Riley Watson-Holmes.” Sherlock reached for John’s hand. The alpha picked it up and pressed a loving kiss to his husband’s palm.

“My third son will be called Caledon Mallory Watson-Holmes.” John stroked his fingers over Sherlock’s eyebrows and leaned down to kiss his mouth tenderly.

“Our forth son shall be named Tancred Conan Watson-Holmes.” The twinkle in Sherlock’s eye let John know he’d researched the names but was letting John slide with one of his choices. The alpha grinned.

“Our second daughter and last of our first litter shall be named Farye Rose Watson-Holmes.” John leaned over and caught Sherlock in a long hard kiss. He was so proud, so happy. His Sherlock had given him a gift beyond valuation. Here were six small lives and John was humbled at the love his husband had for him to provide him with such treasures.

Once the naming had been completed the omega got out of bed for the first time in months. Patrick remade it while Sherlock ate a small meal and drank several beverages. The omgega couldn’t seem to get enough to drink and didn’t stop until he’d had tea, coffee, three different juices and two large glasses of milk. He was now resting and sipping a glass of ice water. John was too happy to even think of eating so he just sat there gazing at his babies with misty eyes. The omega and beta left him close to the crib that held all six children, letting him bond with his offspring.

When Sherlock was fed and finally decided his thirst was quenched he lay himself back down but on his left side. He’d had plenty of time to enjoy the view from the other direction. John ferried the babies back to their large bed and cuddled up to them so that they lay between both of them.

Their screen chirped. John looked at Sherlock who nodded sleepily so John opened the screen and accepted the call. It was Greg and his face was lit up and beaming. “They’re here! All five just perfect! Look!” Greg stepped aside and John could see Mycroft lying on the bed, a sheet draped over his hips and five plump babies nestled up tight. Mycroft was sleeping. John stepped aside so Greg could see Sherlock on the bed in the same condition. “Two girls and three boys. You?”

John grinned hugely, “Four boys and two girls!” Both alphas were almost dancing around as their excitement finally caught up with them. “Oh my god Greg! We’re dads!”

“We have our own sports team! We could play anything!” said Greg and both alphas laughed. They sent each other a list of their chosen names.

John Watson and Sherlock Holmes:  
Lucas Darcy Watson-Holmes (2024)   
Isabel Cristiana Watson-Holmes (2024)  
Benson Riley Watson-Holmes (2024)   
Caledon Mallory Watson-Holmes (2024)  
Tancred Conan Watson-Holmes (2024)   
Farye Rose Watson-Holmes (2024) 

Gregory Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes:   
Aurore Imogen Lestrade-Holmes (2024)   
Livia Shenandoah Lestrade-Holmes (2024)   
Greyson Alistair Lestrade-Holmes (2024)   
Derek Axel Lestrade-Holmes (2024)  
Aidric Milo Lestrade (2024)

John and Greg read over each list slowly. “Wow. These poor kids. Finger painting their names is going to be hell.” Greg sounded almost sad.

“Sherlock gave me permission to pick nicknames. Anything I want.” said John smugly. He doubted Mycroft would have allowed Greg that kind of freedom. From the frown on Greg’s face John could see he was right. He grinned at his friend. 

“Well, I’ll mention that to Myc. I’m going to get back to them now. Congratulations John. Say the same to Sherlock when he wakes up, yeah?” Greg was smiling warmly and John could see he looked as tired as John felt.

“Congratulations Greg, same to Mycroft. We’ll get together as soon as Sherlock feels okay about visiting.” They nodded to one another and ended the call. John looked down at his husband and all their new children. Laying himself carefully down John gazed at Sherlock’s sleeping face and felt such a wash of love that tears pricked his eyes once more. “I love you Sherlock. You really are amazing.”

The omega didn’t wake but a small smile graced his lips and a faint blush colored his cheeks. John lay there and watched his children breath. Their tiny huffs were the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard; their delicate newborn scents filled the air like the rarest perfume. For the next day or so Sherlock and John would bond with their children and after that they would be able to introduce them to their extended family in Baskerville. John felt fully content and totally happy. As an alpha he had achieved the pinnacle of success. His mate had borne a full litter of healthy pups, a new generation of werewolves that would last into the ages. John slept.

 

_Lycanthropus Sapiens Holmes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created an entire family tree for John and Sherlock using a genealogy program I found online. The name Sieger has been mentioned several times as Sherlock's father. I chose Violet as his mother's name because it was the one most frequently cited. I needed to list parents in order to show Mycroft existed. I'm going to use the program to track everyone's attributes. I had to make Sherlock and Mycroft female because apparently it won't let you have same sex marriages or men delivering children. Pfft. I picked Valentine's Day to birth the puppies because I'm a big softy and I thought it was sweet.
> 
> PS - I'm not really a big softy. That was a lie.
> 
> PPS - the entire dialogue during the delivery was verbatim from my own delivery - just one kid but my doctor was a real joker.


	20. Moments that matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic bliss reigns at Baskerville.

Small golden bracelets adorned each tiny wrist. On each bracelet was as small delicate tag with a name elegant scripted onto it. The bands that made up the bracelets were of two very distinctive patterns so even though the babies were picked up and put down multiple times everyone knew exactly who they had. John and Greg were sitting on the floor. A thick mat was beneath them, topped with a large soft blanket. All the babies were ranged around them. Greg and John were burping the babies as Mycroft and Sherlock fed their children.

Greg read the bracelet. This one wasn’t his. Looking solemn Greg intoned deeply, “Luuuuuuke. Here is your father,” then handed the baby to John who was now laughing.

Sherlock frowned. “John I allowed you to choose our first child’s name and asked you to pick something meaningful. If you only chose it to make these jokes then I am sorely disappointed in you.”

“Luke, I am your father.” Now John’s voice was deep and sonorous while Greg giggled. He kept going. “Your mother is very mad at me. _Luuuuuuke_. _It was my only joke_.” Greg was dying. He slumped back and leaned on the sofa in front of Mycroft, trying to stifle his laughter lest he wake the babies who were currently asleep in front of him.

“Gregory Lestrade! Was this why you kept asking to name one of the girls Leia?” Mycroft sounded cross but Greg kept giggling. The silver haired man finally sat up and put on a very false indignant face.

“She would have been a princess!” Greg actually managed to sound as if he were truly aggrieved. Mycroft just rolled his eyes and went back to tending the children he had in his arms. He had three currently, still managing to look elegant as he lounged on the extra wide sofa. The babies were all suckling hungrily. They’d fallen into a pattern already even though they were less than a week old. The babies would feed for a short while, be awake just long enough to be changed if needed, washed if necessary, burped and then the whole group of them would lapse into deeply satisfying slumber. Tiny tummies emptied fast though and after a couple of hours they would wake and the cycle would begin all over again.

“Technically ours are princes and princesses.” remarked Sherlock. He had four babies at the moment. John had one on the mat in front of him and the other over his soaker-pad covered shoulder. The alphas had learned quickly to use something absorbent if they were burping their very leaky children. “I don’t really care to maintain an aristocracy though. It’s useful currently to have the title but I can’t see how it will promote unity by separating everyone by class. It’s bad enough we have secondary genders. The whole point was to encourage individuals to be the best at what they’re natural at.”

“Someone always needs to take responsibility in the end though.” said John. “There comes a point when a situation arises where it will fall to a single individual to make decisions for everyone else. We can’t escape the fact that we are wolves as well as men. It’s in our natures now to fall into a hierarchy. We do it naturally as we breathe now, haven’t you noticed? Go into a room with any random assortment of wolves and everyone will naturally stand someplace that denotes their relative worth to the other wolves in the room! I don’t have to tell wolves I am Khagan. They just know. Sherlock, you are always the very center of things because you are Khan. You may hate the title but it means something to the other wolves! Whether we like it or not our children will be in the exact same situation. Even if I hadn’t become Khagan we’re all so strong it almost wouldn’t matter. We’d still be the most exceptional wolves currently available and our children will be the same.”

“Currently available?” asked Sherlock dryly. “Also, just because wolves naturally follow a hierarchy doesn’t mean our children will necessarily become pack-leaders. If their talents lay elsewhere I don’t want them trapped by convention. What if we meet another wolf that will do a better job of being a leader? It could happen. We have centuries in front of us.”

“My point is that we have no idea how the Epsilon children will develop. Maybe they’ll just be regular normal kids who happen to be werewolves. Maybe they’ll be exceptional. We can’t tell yet. They’re not even two yet. Most of them are still on soft food.” John sensed that they would be exceptional, all of them. Already the children gave off the impression of being highly aware, more focused than they should be at their age. He couldn’t even begin to wonder how their children would develop.

“I had no idea they’d be so floppy.” said Greg curiously holding a small bundle. The swaddling had come loose and he was rewrapping the baby, or trying to. Little arms and legs needed to be carefully arranged. Greg had checked the bracelet and knew he was holding Greyson. “It’s sort of freaking me out, when will they stop being so bendy?”

“They’re still growing Greg. Give them at least another week before you take them to their first football practice, alright?” Greg rolled his eyes at Mycroft’s droll tone. “They’re babies Gregory. What did you expect?”

“I suppose they did need to fold up tight in the oven.” mused Greg. “I’m glad they got over that squished look. All their heads rounded out. I was a bit worried there for a bit.”

“Well I’m sure my brother and I did our very best to crack ourselves open like we were the special at the oyster bar but all naturally born children look that way. Everyone gets over it, even giant headed Watson babies.” Sherlock could remember THAT sensation clearly though already the memories of the pain were already muted. After a week he and Mycroft were more than recovered. It took both of them more than a day to recuperate completely. The first day their stomachs had become strangely dense feeling as all the excessive skin pulled itself together and began to disperse. It took another day for the last of it to disappear. Now the only signs that they had birthed were the extra nipples and slight thickening around their ribcage when they were swollen with milk. It was almost unnoticeable except for the scent of mothering omegas which only other alphas and omegas could smell.

The Holmes brothers seem to take to their maternal duties with ease. Both of them looked very natural as they nursed multiple children simultaneously. Both men wore long pajama bottoms and thin robes, but there was no point in even trying to wear a shirt of any sort. Their feeding cycle was too demanding.

Mrs. Hudson stopped by. She had a large wheeled cart that was filled with trays of foods. “Finger-foods dears! Everyone agreed this would be easier than trying to sit down to a proper meal.” Sherlock and Mycroft craned their heads and looked ravenous. Of course they would be. They were using up every calorie they ingested to feed their litters.

The cart was filled with tiny little wraps and thinly sliced cold-cuts, vegetables and an assortment of fruits. Mycroft and Sherlock became instantly demanding. Soon John and Greg had carefully placed their young on a large cushion on the center of the floor and were feeding their omegas while they continued to nurse. “I’ll get the tea.” John got up and put together a large selection of beverages. Sherlock and Mycroft naturally needed to rehydrate often. They ate after every single nap, consuming more each day than they ever had in a week before they had become pregnant.

Greg was patting the back of his last child while Mycroft sat up to eat properly. It was Aurore, their oldest. She burped and fell right to sleep so Greg tucked her onto the large cushion with her siblings and cousins. Swaddled tight they made a big warm nest of sleeping infants.

John came back with the drinks. While they had their meal different people came in and out of the suite to clean and restock. The alpha sat next to his mate and offered Sherlock first choice. The omega took two large juices. A beta came over and discretely took the tray from John and served everyone else before retreating quietly.

Titania came in. She bowed low at the door but made no move to enter. Sherlock and Mycroft stared hard at her so she bowed even lower a second time and cast her eyes to the floor respectfully. The Holmes brothers were jealous of their babies and wouldn’t allow any omegas close to them in case of poachers. That absolutely no one in Baskerville had ever entertained the thought of trying to steal a Holmes baby did nothing at all to assuage their reactions, even with their own pack. The small woman waited calmly for the men to decide she was no threat.

Finally Sherlock gestured and she approached slowly. Smiling she looked at the sleeping babies and suddenly she smelled so proud, so devoted, so filled with happiness that Sherlock and Mycroft softened and let her approach even more. Titania leaned in a bit to peek a little more at the bundles sleeping so quietly and everyone suddenly took in her scent deeply. Titania had an alpha’s scent mixed with hers now. As one everyone’s eyes fixed on the nape of Titania’s neck.

Vuk’s bond-bite was clearly visible. John’s voice was teasing, “The full moon was two days ago little one. You should have presented yourself immediately.” Titania flushed dark red and her eyes once again fixed to the floor.

Her voice was soft and shy. “I have only just left my rooms Khagan.” So, they had bonded at the full moon and spent the rest of their moon time mating. Everyone took another breath but she answered before they could ask. “I have not chosen to conceive nor will I until Vuk has completed his training and satisfied my demands to be a good dog, an honorable mate and worthy of children. Ilva and Siofra have joined Patrick and Ethan to watch over us.” Her soft voice was hard right then. If Vuk slipped up John wondered if he’d even need to bother hunting him down or if his old pack would rip him to bloody shreds before John got there.

“It will do him good.” said Greg flippantly. He was the one who had reined in Vuk in their early years, doing so with quiet capability and just never mentioning it to anyone. “How has Delta dealt with it?”

“She knows he is her biological father but has yet to warm up to him. Delta was of course aware that he has been imprisoned. He works to win her over but she is stubborn. It will happen in its own time or it will not. Ena and Kysa have also formally met their father. They were curious but not drawn to him as yet. He will need to earn their respect on his own. Children see much of a person’s true character.” Titania sounded certain so everyone left her to it. “I have come with reports. I apologize but Mycroft will need to approve this himself.” The omega got up and joined Titania in the kitchen briefly.

Sherlock looked at his brother as he resumed his seat beside Greg. “All is ready brother. When we have time we can resume work on The Problem. We have consent from all the adult deltas in the area and written consent from the parents of the underage deltas.”

Sherlock and Mycroft both looked resolute. “I will not give this up brother. There must be a way.” They thought of the delta children from their own pack. There was Delta of course but also Li, Jacob, Ena and Kysa. All the children were fussed over and much loved. It was a hard thing to know that unless Sherlock came up with a way to activate their ability to become werewolves that these children would simply die after a normal lifespan. A good full life but still, it could last centuries instead of mere decades.

John reached over and took Sherlock’s hand. “I believe in you Sherlock. It might not happen right away but I know you can figure this out. You created the Epsilons. You can figure out how to save the deltas.”

Sherlock smiled over at John. John always had complete faith in Sherlock’s abilities and more patience than any other living being. Sherlock knew he could count on John to support him for as long as Sherlock needed him to.

They had a large pack now, the largest in history. No other alpha had ever been able to secure this many pack members. John did a quick count of his personal pack, not including Vuk there were now thirty-two members ranging all the way from his beloved Sherlock all the way down to their newborns. Five deltas were at risk and John couldn’t allow that to continue so he gave his blessing to Sherlock and Mycroft to make their new project a priority after the care of their own children. John only wished he could do more than just hope they succeeded.

“John you give us absolutely everything. We could not ask for more for there is nothing left to give. You care for our pack and they need it. They need to see you in person, hear your words and feel the concern you have for them. That is how you help. Your influence has allowed all their hurts and fears ebb over time until most of the darkness has been left behind. You have a true gift.” Sherlock caressed his alpha with a long fingered hand, stroking along John’s cheek affectionately. John smiled at his omega.

Sherlock smiled over at his husband, still amused that John felt insecurities. John was the most unusual and exceptional alpha alive. His nurturing personality was at odds with how most alphas presented themselves. John didn’t need to posture, never cared if his affections made him seem weak or effeminate, John simply didn’t care. If people needed him he was there and that’s all John Watson needed to know.

Now that the children had arrived John was going back to his old routines slowly. In the afternoon he had resumed his rounds. He checked on the few people that were in the little used infirmary, mostly the elderly humans that still taught at the school. John knew everyone by name and chatted with each one for a few minutes before moving along. John didn’t plan his daily route. He just wandered around visiting with people. By the time he made it back home he would be full of information he’d pass along to his immediate team. John’s careful attentions had many times provided help to people who didn’t know all they needed to do was ask for it.

They were insanely wealthy now at Baskerville. John refused to accept money from anyone for anything. Greg and Mycroft’s side businesses brought in huge amounts of profit. Their global contracts brought in steady trickles of money as well. One pack at a time John set up a financial support system for all the wolves who did not live in Baskerville or anywhere local. Not all wolves cared to move to England, preferring to remain in their home countries. Slowly he was eradicating the poverty that most wolves had lived with and gave them the means to secure their own homes, to school their own children and to travel to Baskerville whenever they wanted.

Sometimes families would come in to visit old pack mates or siblings that had bonded away from their home pack. It was during one of these visits that a family brought an energetic young seeming alpha with them. He was un-bonded, vivacious and extremely flirtatious. He was there to learn, to become a part of the school to see what he was good at. As a single alpha he was roomed in an apartment complex filled with other alphas, kept carefully away from single omegas. All new alphas were given the same talk – no forced claiming of omega. No rape even if they didn’t consider it rape because omegas were meant to be bred. No using their alpha voice to get what they wanted. They had to approach anyone they fancied with respect and honor. His name was Michael.

Michael was curious and bold. He excelled in his classes after lagging in the beginning. Once he got the hang of it all Michael fit right into Baskerville like he’d never lived anywhere else. You’d never know he’d spent nearly his entire life running wild through the forests of northern Canada. He was engaging, friendly, very handsome and popular. Michael fell into conversations with people with ease and even charmed the children. When John took him on his rounds one day he found that Michael, who had not stopped talking all day, had fallen silent at the door to the lab.

Michael was staring at Timothy and Amand. The air had an almost electrical crackle to it. Suddenly John could smell the scent of alpha pheromones, intense arousal. Michael drifted to the bonded pair as if unaware his feet were bringing him closer. The alpha’s eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled gently and then looked rapturous. The omegas were skittish and looked like they wanted to bolt but they couldn’t seem to leave any more than Michael could seem to stop. Michael was taller than both of them by a couple of inches, was as dark as they were fair. They’d never met. John hadn’t even gotten as far as introducing them when Michael fell to his knees in front of both men and took the blushing omegas hands in his. “I’ll worship you forever.” He promised and just like that Michael was theirs. No one had expected it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting simply ages to crack the Luke joke. I hope at least one of you laughed.


	21. Special Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has slipped on by and there's a festival at Baskerville.

Everyone was dressed up in their finest. The moor seemed filled from end to end as hundreds of people milled around. There were rides and games, food booths and beverages. Laughter rang out as families milled about enjoying all the events and the music that played from a corner where a small stage was filled with musicians.

Sherlock and John walked grandly arm and arm through the crowd, a line of betas stretched out behind them bearing their children. They moved slowly, greeting friends and speaking with this person or that as they went along. The children were fussed over, each beta covetously keeping hands off the child they were in charge with but still displaying each precious face proudly.

Twelve moons had gone by since their pups were born and last night they had successfully shifted all eleven of them. Now the babies were being shown off at the impromptu festival their pack had thrown together. John and Sherlock were met by Mycroft and Lestrade. The two brothers embraced happily, their lifelong rivalry completely missing since they had become pregnant. Now they were close to one another, nearly as close as they were to their beloved alphas.

They turned to examine their children. They were all still human shaped at the moment. Pups tended to shift unexpectedly for the first few months. The other Epsilons had gotten the hang of their bodies after a while and now only shifted when asked or during the peak of the full moon, Sherlock was pleased with his babies. All of them were well grown and healthy, beautiful and happy.

Breast feeding had only lasted three months before the pups pushed themselves off their mothers and sniffed around at the soft foods available. Sherlock and Mycroft both tried with dismay to re-interest their babies, having made the decision to breast-feed for a minimum of six months or even a year if they could manage it. Their pups weren’t interested. They had developed into small incredibly independent children almost immediately. They were already crawling all over the place, gleefully stuffing their small bodies into any space they could find.

The betas were now necessary. There was no way John and Sherlock could keep track of six fast moving babies. They were tiny Houdinis, clever and filled with laughter. At not-quite a calendar year they shouldn’t have been so much trouble but the only children that were more of a handful that the Watson-Holmes’ were the Lestrade-Holmes’.

Of John and Sherlock’s children the boys were blond like their father but the girls were dark like their mother. All of them had curly hair and all of them had Sherlock’s kaleidoscope eyes. When they shifted only scent could tell their parents which child they were holding. The boys had yellow eyes and golden fur while the girls had green eyes like John’s wolf eyes but remorselessly black fur like Sherlock.

Of Greg and Mycroft’s litter were a range of red-hair tots ranging from pale orange to fiery red. They also had inherited the Holmes eyes and were incredibly striking. Though their coloring was their mother’s all of them had eyes shaped exactly like Greg’s and their mouths were from their father. When they shifted each pup was a tiny foxy version of their mother except that the tips of their tails were black. Greg was extraordinarily proud of his pups.

As the family made their way through the crowds they were approached by Michael. He was holding hands with Timothy and Amand, both men wearing loose shirts to ease their very pregnant bellies. Michael had bonded with both of them at the first full moon after they had met and impregnated both of them half a year later. All three were deliriously happy to be expecting their pups, Michael’s first children. Jacob rather liked Michael but the eight year old was too cool to hang around with the grownups and ran wild with his pack mates from the school, Delta in charge as always.

Vuk followed Titania around everywhere she went. She was still training him rigorously. Sherlock and John had heard rumors of whips and cages but made no move to interfere with what she was doing. Vuk didn’t seem troubled. He cared for Titania, fetching her drinks or food, caring for all his children whom had slowly warmed up to him and in all ways being a perfect alpha. He wore her collar at all times, never once asking to have it removed no matter the looks he got from other visiting alphas. Their opinions didn’t matter to Vuk. Apart from the London wolves Vuk was the most powerful alpha alive and Titania could be savage when provoked. No one crossed them.

John could see the rest of their pack being courted by other wolves. Siofra and Ilva especially were being wooed by many alphas but had yet to demonstrate more than polite interest in their suitors. Patrick and Sidney were walking with Ethan who was as always uncomfortable in a crowd. Ian and Mrs. Hudson were running a refreshment booth, handing out free beverages to all comers. Ian had been propositioned dozens of times by alphas from everywhere; he was a striking omega and unbonded. He had refused all advances politely and stuck next to Mrs. Hudson with devotion. They had gotten legally married but that wasn’t the same as being chemically bonded which Mrs. Hudson could not do as a beta. That left Ian with a life-time of saying no to one alpha after another, but he did it with tact and so far no one had taken grievous exception to Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock looked around. He could see Mai had a cluster of admirers around her as well. The tiny omega had sharply slanted eyes and an expressionless face Sherlock envied. Carlotta and Isabelle swept over to her and the three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, coldly freezing out the alphas that pushed their way too close. Titania noticed the circle grow smaller as the alphas grew bolder. Just as John was going to move in to tell them to cool down Vuk was there. He snarled savagely at the alphas, waiting until they backed away to a respectful distance then stood behind his mate silently, looking for all the world like he was bored and hadn’t just threatened to chew someone’s heart out for rudeness. Titania was pleased and led her alpha away grandly, letting everyone see their unusual dynamic.

John and Sherlock made their way to their pack mates. As the Khagan arrived with his mate and litter all the visiting alphas suddenly realized they had been trying to pressure the royal omegas into bonding. They backed away with red faces. Sherlock grinned at Carlotta who winked slyly back. These three were not opposed to mating. They were just waiting for the right alpha to be presented to them. All the Iakov wolves were extremely close, though not as close as Timothy and Amand. Their dire situation had tied them all together; all reluctant to be away from the wolves they had lived with for so long. Whichever alpha interested them needed to impress the entire lot.

The Hounds of the Baskerville had high standards, the highest. No alpha stood a chance to gain the hand of one of the rare single members of the now prestigious pack without demonstrating some incredible characteristic. It was unlikely that they would have an instant romance like Michael had. He had fallen in love with his omegas at first scent and hadn’t had eyes for anyone else since. Only the women were still single.

There were a lot of smiles all around and the crowds were considerable. There were a few humans mixed in, the elderly teachers as well as the human family members that lived with their werewolf parents or siblings. It wasn’t until after that Sherlock and John realized how the crowd which should have kept them safe was actually their greatest weakness.

Strange wolves showed up. A large pack of nine savage looking wolves that appeared out the moor like shadows, all of them silver and black with dark eyes. The edge of the crowd suddenly compacted as everyone drew together. John noticed first. He didn’t leave Sherlock’s side though until Greg, Mycroft, and all the rest of their pack drew close in a tight-knit group, the children being clutched anxiously by their attending betas in the very center surrounded by all.

The rest of the children were quickly pulled into the center. All the betas instinctively corralled the youth, stood behind fierce looking omegas that were shielded by every alpha available. In a blink there were only a scarce handful of human appearing people left on the green, a few pregnant omegas and the smattering of humans who lived there. In their place hundreds of tense wolves stared at the intruders.

Mycroft and Greg blended instantly and Greg followed John as Sherlock and Mycroft linked arms and stood in front of their babies, daring anyone to try to get close to their litter. John approached the strangers cautiously, staying out of reach of them before calling out, “Who are you?”

One large wolf stepped forward. He was scarred and grizzled looking. Even speaking the body language of wolves his accent was strange. His eyes were terrifying, a bloody red instead of the range of more human shades all the other wolves had. John sniffed and became wary. These wolves were strong. Incredibly strong, “We are The Brothers.” He didn’t seem to have a name beyond that. This pack was ancient and all male. All alpha, all incredibly focused. John felt a sense of danger for the first time in many years.

“What do you want? We do not recognize you. We thought we had met every wolf around the world or at least we’ve tried to.” John was a little disconcerted to see that all The Brothers had the same red eyes. It made them all look fairly insane and unstable. 

“Mates. Wish to bond.” John could smell their desire on the air now. All the alphas were emitting scents to entice any unbonded omega to them. They were alluring apparently because more than one unbonded omega stepped forward before stopping themselves. Ian was one of them. Carlotta was another. Both stepped back and gave themselves a shocked shake.

“Where are you from? Why do you think you deserve mates from here? What makes you worthy?” John sniffed the air carefully. None of the strangers seemed to be in an aggressive state. It smelled like they were telling the truth, they wanted to bond with an omega of their own and Baskerville was the mother-lode of omegas.

“We are from the north. We don’t know the man names for the places we run. It is ice and snow, deer and bears. We have lived there always but our tribes have died away until only we remain. We have lived since the dawn of man and can promise strong children to our mates. We have heard whispers of the breath of life. We have not allowed ourselves to think of children who would be lost to us. We have traveled for moons to come here, to take mates, to breed. We are strong. Our age makes us strong.” The wolf who spoke for them sniffed back at John. “Nephew, has our sister gone to her rest?”

There was shocked silence all through the crowd. These wolves were Mother’s brothers. The First Family or all that remained. John stepped forward, “Mother passed away over ten years ago Uncle. She made my mate and I before she left this world. I am called John Watson.”

“Nephew John Watson, we swear to do no harm, to take none by force. You are Khagan, we will be your soldiers, watch your pack and guard as you direct. Nephew, we wish only to do what our nature bids us do.” John didn’t know what to say. He was approached by the first wolf. As he got closer the stranger shifted into his human form. He was tall, broad and dark. He reminded John of Vuk in a way, that primitive aura about the man was unmistakeable.

The other eight wolves shifted. All were wild men, clad in rough leathers and furs. All of them looked dangerous and slightly mad still. More than one omega stepped forward, Ian once again in the involuntary crowd. The omegas couldn’t help themselves. The pheromones The Brothers were producing were so powerful that even John could sense the pull they were having on the breeders.

Another of The Brothers sniffed the air. “Your litter is large Khagan. I can smell them. Good strong pups. You are a worthy Khagan. Will you allow the Khan to meet us? We would pay our respects properly.” Sherlock pushed his way forward. He was dressed especially nice tonight as was John. His hair was still longer than he used to wear it and he strode up with assurance. Every single one of The Brothers took a long lingering look at Sherlock and dropped to one knee. “Beautiful Khan, our sister chose well. It will be our joy to serve you as we once served our sister before she mated and left our pack.”

“Don’t call me Khan. My name is Sherlock.” He wasn’t impressed with The Brothers. They weren’t John and that’s all Sherlock needed to know. He was safely bonded with a full litter of puppies. He had no interest in one of The Brothers for anything.

“Magnificent Sherlock, may we be of service to you, to take our place by your mate’s side, to guard and serve him as we once did our beloved sister, your maker?” Sherlock looked at John. Their thoughts intertwined and separated in the space of a single blink.

Sherlock looked carefully at each Brother. “Uncles, I welcome you to Baskerville. You may seek mates among the uncommitted omegas, one who is tied to another, even if they are NOT mated will not be asked! There are several omegas here without an alpha of their own. Woo them with honor, do not force or compel. Rape is not tolerated! Using your alpha strengths to coerce an omega will earn you my personal wrath. You don’t want that.”

John and Sherlock stood side by side and accepted the oaths sworn to them by The Brothers who came and knelt before them. It felt strange and archaic, the tempo and rhythm of their words seemed to reach back into ancient times. When The Brothers rose again their scent had changed. They suddenly didn’t seem so wild. They seemed calmer, centered even. When they smiled, all of them became handsome. Even more omega stepped forward.

Ian was still among them.

 

The Brothers and omegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5000 hits! I can't believe it. Thank you everyone for reading and commenting. It's really kept this story growing.


	22. Game Changer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of The Brothers was unexpected. What changes does their arrival herald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cup of tea in hand is probably a good idea.

The crowds dispersed quietly and that night the brothers were housed in the facility. Several suites were now empty as mothers moved on to regular houses as their children had grown. Each man was exquisitely polite. They treated Sherlock as if he were a great treasure they were privileged to view and commended John many times on his good fortune to have found such an extraordinary omega.

The next day The Brothers respectfully asked to meet the rest of John’s pack so John called everyone together to meet in their conference room. It was very full when everyone finally arrive, the children spread around in the arms of anyone who wanted to hold them. The Brother’s mingled cautiously, their movements slow and deliberate as they took in the scent of each person. Ian was there but Mrs. Hudson was not. The London wolves looked askance at one another over her absence. Ian looked very upset but he remained regardless.

One of The Brothers stood in front of Ethan and just looked down at him. Ethan looked very nervous, almost as if he wanted to bolt. He wasn’t comfortable around alphas; John and Greg were the only two he was relaxed with. The Brother reached out a hand and gently raised Ethan’s head so their eyes could meet. “You are strong.” The man said softly, his thumb caressing Ethan’s jaw. Ethan trembled and said nothing. He was a beta, he couldn’t do anything. “You have a light inside you. It makes you beautiful.” The alpha leaned in and scented Ethan delicately, “You smell like home.” The large man looked curiously at Ethan who still hadn’t said a word and who clearly wanted to drop his eyes respectfully as well as fearfully. The Brother ran a finger over Ethan’s mouth. “You are special. You are more than you seem. You are….” The Brother leaned in once more and inhaled delicately one more time. “You are unique. There’s something different about you. You are not who you appear to be.” Ethan was surprised when the alpha dropped to his knees and pressed his face to Ethan’s belly. The beta gasped fearfully and tried to draw back but the alpha’s arms suddenly held him still and he growled deeply. The Brother whispered but John and Sherlock still heard, “Omega.”

That simply could not be. Ethan was a beta. He’d always been a beta. He didn’t react to pheromones, he didn’t change at the peak of the moon and he never went into heat. The Brother stood slowly and looked Ethan over with incredible deliberation, “I offer myself to you most beautiful one. I would be your mate, father your children, care for you through the centuries and hold you dear for all of my days. I will protect you to my last breath and honor you for as long as you remain with me.”

Finally Ethan managed to choke out some words, “I don’t even know you. I’m a beta. I can’t be an omega.” Ethan was flushed and his eyes were wide. He was biting his lip and trembling still.

The Brother resumed his caress of Ethan’s jaw, touching him as if Ethan were the most delicate of creatures. Ethan couldn’t seem to move himself away, even leaning into the caress without realising it. “You are omega. I can smell your womb. You are ripe. If you wish it I can breed you at the full moon if you allow me to bond with you and make you mine. Our children will be exquisite.” Ethan was pale and swaying with denial. He was beta! He repeated it several times breathlessly before folding up into a faint. The alpha caught him easily, cradling Ethan to him as if he were already mated to the man, “Omega.” The Brother said with finality.

Sherlock rushed over. Ethan was his best friend after John. “ _What have you done to Ethan?_ ” Sherlock was shouting angrily. The Brother bowed with Ethan still in his arms. Sherlock pressed a long fingered hand to Ethan’s forehead.

“Magnificent Khan, I have offered to bond with this omega. He fainted after claiming he was beta. He is not. He is omega and ready to mate.” The Brother still held Ethan tenderly, shifting the unconscious man so his head was supported on the alpha’s broad shoulder. He was holding Ethan covetously, as if he’d already made his bond-mark and no one else was allowed to touch what was his.

The rest of The Brothers grouped together behind him and simply waited. They had stopped scenting the others in the room the second Ethan had fainted and were just standing there calmly. Sherlock was scowling and The Brother with Ethan dropped his eyes deferentially but still held Ethan just the tiniest bit tighter to his body. John stood beside Sherlock and he looked very serious. “Bring him. The rest of you can go back to your suites. We’ll meet again later after we’ve seen to Ethan.”

Sherlock kissed each of his babies as their pack walked past him. Mycroft touched Sherlock’s hand lightly, “Greg and I will stay with them until you return.” Sherlock nodded, relieved. He could trust Mycroft and Greg to spill their last drop of blood protecting his children. John took Sherlock’s arm and led The Brother and Ethan to the infirmary.

Patrick followed with the rest of Sherlock’s research team. Everyone petted Ethan tenderly as he was laid onto a bed, blood drawn and scans prepared. He finally opened his eyes when Sidney whispered in his ear that she was about to put gel on his stomach to look into his abdomen. He looked terrified and smelled of anxiety. Sherlock held his hand and Sidney began to scan.

There was nothing unusual. Sidney began to track the scan back and forth before stopping cold. There nestled deep in Ethan’s abdomen something they’d all grown to recognize, a male Omega womb. Ethan had somehow grown a womb! It was mature and completed and looked as if it had been so for some time. Ethan was gasping with shocked panic. Sherlock couldn’t calm him but The Brother stood forward and stroked Ethan’s jaw. Ethan grew pliant and relaxed. Sherlock was drawing more blood now and he had that look on his face. He was going to get to the bottom of this!

Patrick printed off an image for Ethan. The beta/omega sat slowly with the help of The Brother and looked at it. His face was drawn and pale, Ethan was deeply shocked. The Brother wrapped his arms around the once-again trembling man and Ethan sank back into his heat and closed his eyes, allowing The Brother to comfort him. The rough man whispered, “You are special, you are filled with destiny, you are beautiful and strong. Your mind is rich and filled with places waiting for me. Our bond will be perfect should you allow it. Let me court you; let me prove myself to you. I will use every part of myself to keep you safe from whatever troubles you. I will allow my heart to worship only you. My strength will be your strength for all of our long days. Let me warm you. Let me be beside you even if you do not wish the blessing of children.”

Ethan began to weep. He was overwhelmed and he reached for John. John took him from The Brother and allowed his pack mate to cry on his shoulder. The Brother didn’t seem perturbed and John realized it was only because of John’s rank. The Brother wasn’t formally a part of their pack yet, had not mated with Ethan and therefore could not protest if another alpha, even a bonded one, touched the man and John was Ethan’s pack-leader. It was his place to comfort his pack-mate. “We’ve got you Ethan. You know we wouldn’t let anything happen that you didn’t want. Sherlock will figure out how this happened and you can decide.”

Ethan mumbled something into John’s shirt. John couldn’t make it out so Ethan moved his mouth to John’s ear. “I do want it. Him. It scares me John! Vuk…” Ethan began to weep again and John scowled. Vuk had not paid dearly enough for his savagery. Now John was even more determined to turn a blind eye and ear to Titania’s training methods. Vuk got whatever he deserved when she was in a temper. The Brother stood tall; his head quirked to the side and a savage look blossoming on his face.

“Someone hurt him? Who? Does this person live? If so _they won’t be for long!”_ The Brother snarled savagely, sounding exactly like the wild wolf he was. He loomed, projecting righteous fierceness mixed with the urge to sooth and calm his mate. John silenced him with a look.

“The wolf that hurt him is being handled by another. Ethan has never gotten over what happened to him, what happened to all of them. There was abuse of betas and omegas for a while but we’ve put a stop to that one pack at a time. Two of our pack suffered the worst before they got here, Ethan was one of them.” Patrick kept his back firmly turned. He had dealt with his trauma, his pack had helped but his work and Sidney were what had tipped the scales for him. Ethan had work but no partner to unload on and had kept his pain to himself. The fear had grown and was so much a part of him his scent was affected.

The Brother came and scooped Ethan right out of John’s arms and John was impressed to see Ethan curl right into the tall dark man to bury his face in the wild man’s long hair. It seemed that the alpha had gotten through to Ethan and now the new omega was responding to the comfort being offered. “I will never hurt you lovely one. I will never take what isn’t offered freely and never harm even a hair on your head. I will treasure you like the miracle you are and stand proud all my days because I have finally found the perfect mate.”

The Brother’s words were having a noticeable effect on Ethan. For the first time in years the smell of fear began to subside. John hadn’t realized its constant presence. It had always been a part of Ethan. Now that it was less, John could finally smell the markers that must have come slowly over time, the scent of a ripe omega. It was probably only because they spent so much time with Ethan that they hadn’t noticed the subtle shift in his scent. Everyone smelled a little different from day to day.

Ian showed up. He looked worried and went to Ethan. They clasped hands and Ethan just nodded and settled himself onto The Brother’s lap. Another Brother appeared at the door and was watching Ian silently. John went to him and stepped into the hallway with The Brother who looked solemn. “I wish to mate with this omega. He is married to a beta. This beta cannot provide children. This omega has wished for young for a long time but has denied himself. I have no wish to cause acrimony but I can smell him, he is meant for me and no one else. I must leave this with you Khagan. I will not shed blood but I will have him eventually.”

John’s heart sank. Mrs. Hudson! She hadn’t been at the gathering. John knew she understood what was going on. If Ethan hadn’t fainted John would have sought Mrs. Hudson out already. “You were not to ask anyone who was tied to another.” he reminded The Brother sternly.

Ian came over. “I asked him John. We need to speak.” John looked at Ian with shock. The omega looked grieved and upset, his scent reflecting his feelings. John nodded weakly and sent a thought to Sherlock to let him know everything. Sherlock’s thoughts were cold and disciplined right now; he was doing what he did best and was working to untangle a mystery. John took Ian and The Brother back to the now empty conference room.

“Where is Mrs. Hudson?” she’d never changed her name and Ian had never asked her to. She was universally known as Mrs. Hudson, no one ever used her first name which was Martha. Ian looked like he was about to cry. He swayed weakly and began to talk in a thick voice.

“She left me last night. She went back to London, to Baker Street. She said you’d understand. She didn’t let me say anything, she just told me she wanted me to have a proper bond, to have children, to choose one of The Brothers because they were the best alphas she’d ever met. You know she has a sense about these things. She’s divorcing me John!” Ian began to cry piteously, covering his face with his hands. He was overwrought with grief and loss. “She didn’t give me a chance to say a word! Not a word! She told me I already knew which one I’d choose and she was right. I knew yesterday when they arrived. I’m so sorry John! I can’t help myself and I’ve ruined everything.”

Ian would have slid to the floor if The Brother had not caught him. Ian was as undone as Ethan had been his sensitive nature not up to dealing with the emotional trauma he was enduring. John knew Ian loved Mrs. Hudson to pieces and that her abrupt decision had hurt him greatly. John did understand though, Mrs. Hudson had been right about that. The pheromones The Brothers produced were irresistible. The omegas were hard-wired to respond to them, their whole being was made to bond with an alpha; it was their entire purpose in life. Mrs. Hudson could never bond with Ian no matter how much they loved one another.

John thought of Ethan and the surprise he had manifested. If the same happened to Mrs. Hudson it still would be for naught because as omegas she and Ian still couldn’t bond! John remembered what it had been like for Sherlock when he denied himself conception, how every moon was a trial he endured and how helpless John had felt when his mate suffered over and over again with no reprieve. Was that how Mrs. Hudson felt every full moon? Ian had to shift, would go into heat but their encounters would never result in a successful mating, not ever. Ian would have consigned himself to an eternity of childless suffering for the love of Mrs. Hudson but she wouldn’t let him do that. She was too good a person to allow someone she loved to hurt. Now John felt like crying as he understood the massive sacrifice she had made for love.

John did what he could. “Ian it’s alright. I approve your mating. Sherlock and I will go see Mrs. Hudson tomorrow. We’ll help her get settled properly and make sure she’s okay. We’ll look after her, we promise.” Ian was miserable. He wasn’t sobbing anymore but the tears kept falling. His life with Mrs. Hudson had been a happy one. To have it all change in less than a day was a blow he would need time to recover from. That the person destined to provide him the comfort he needed was also the person who had caused the hurt made Ian confused and even more upset. John’s acceptance and approval allowed Ian’s omega nature to begin to assert itself, to allow his incipient bond-mate to hold him and bear him up through his grief. John looked at The Brother, “He’ll need time. Don’t push him.”

The Brother looked down at John, his face placid and calm. “I have waited centuries for this chance. Ian can have as much time as he needs now that I am here. I can wait for him to be ready. I will watch over him while he heals and care for him. He will be mine.” The Brother spoke as if this were mere fact and nothing that needed to be stated except out of politeness.

John silently agreed. There was nothing to say. Ian and The Brother were going to bond together eventually; their bodies already recognized the other as their mate. When the next full moon came John expected to see a bond-bite on Ian’s neck. He may grieve for Mrs. Hudson but bonding was what he craved right down to his bones. Privately John also expected immediate pregnancy. Sherlock couldn’t wait a second longer when it was his time. Ian was likely the same. It was their nature.

John left them there. They needed time together to work through the difficult beginning of their relationship. John would do nothing to stop them from bonding but he needed to speak with Sherlock as well as Mrs. Hudson now. With a heavy heart John returned to the infirmary.

The Brother was still holding Ethan who seemed to have fallen asleep. Sherlock was hunched over a computer and was examining the interactions of various tests he had going on. A technician was picking up samples to bring to the lab. “Sherlock, we’ll need to talk when you have a few minutes.”

Sherlock stood. Glancing at the sleeping Ethan and the stoic Brother he took John’s hand and allowed himself to be led into the hallway. John quickly explained what had happened to Ian and Mrs. Hudson. “Oh my god John! You’re just going to let this happen? To Mrs. Hudson? You have to stop it somehow!” Sherlock was enraged and John let him be until Sherlock’s logical mind laid out the situation for him, over-riding the more emotional responses that Sherlock had slowly accustomed himself to. Gradually the omega stopped shouting and stood there with slumped shoulders, “We can leave first thing in the morning. We’ll go as Mr. and Mrs. Charles.”

They couldn’t walk the streets of London without a disguise so Sherlock had come up with new personas for them. He’d taken the characters from one of John’s favorite old detective shows, donning the female garb like he wore nothing else. John rather enjoyed having his wife on his arm while they strolled through the city they loved so well but tomorrow wasn’t going to be about enjoying themselves. They needed to see their old friend and comfort her as best they could. They had children and pack-members here that also needed them. They were responsible for their well-being.

They couldn’t stay in London either. There was no way to bring all six of their children and even being away for the day would be hard for the devoted parents. They’d have only a few hours with Mrs. Hudson and John hoped it would be enough. Sherlock was quiet so John opened his arms and held his husband tight to him. Separations always made them anxious. To know that their oldest and dearest friend would be living away from the person she cared about so deeply cut at both men.

The arrival of The Brothers had triggered so many vast changes. Their very existence had been a shock. Their powerful call to bond and mate was causing unexpected riptides through the peaceful harmony of Baskerville. Ethan’s unexpected gender-shift had astounded everyone who knew; the news of it would race through the community as soon as he bonded if it hadn’t already. The Brother was determined to make Ethan his and John doubted Ethan would resist. Having an alpha to protect him was exactly what timid Ethan needed. Figuring out how he had changed from a beta to an omega was essential. Helping Mrs. Hudson was a priority. Caring for their children was instinctive. John had never felt so torn in so many directions. Once again John regretted being Khagan. This mess was entirely his to deal with. He sighed and held his omega tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mrs. Hudson! How is she dealing with this sorrow?


	23. Mrs Hudson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Hudson has left Baskerville and her husband behind. John and Sherlock follow her to the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have unintentionally grieved some of you with Mrs. Hudson's unhappiness. I slaved like a slave to finish this installment up as soon as I could to sooth your spirits. As always, there was a reason for the pain.

John and Sherlock arrived in London first thing in the morning and went directly to Baker Street. Ian and The Brother came with them much to Sherlock’s fury. He snubbed the huge man the entire trip and glared at Ian who was a red-eyed picture of misery. The Brother insisted that they go with John and Sherlock, “This is a problem I created. I must fix this somehow or my mate will be unhappy. I cannot fail at being a good alpha. I must make Ian happy.”

Sherlock barely tolerated the man. The omega radiated cold anger the entire flight to London and John was extremely grim as well. If Ian had not been with them chances were The Brother would have gotten a flying lesson, even if they just dropped him over a pond somewhere. Ian kept his hand in The Brother’s as if he could sense the ill will Sherlock had for the wild man. Mrs. Hudson was Sherlock’s very favoritest person in the whole wide world, a slim second to John and even first before John on the odd occasion. She was that dear to the Khan.

“Tell me what she said to you.” John finally asked The Brother during the flight. The huge man tilted his head. Sherlock was fixing his wig and straightening his dress. He looked lovely as a red-head and wore flats in deference to John’s height. He kept shooting hateful glances at the alpha though.

“I have not met this person. Ian came to me alone.” The wolf smelled truthful. So far none of The Brothers had said anything discourteous to anyone. John felt curious.

“She didn’t even meet you? She just left Ian, just like that?” Ian nodded at John.

“John she did! Right after The Brothers arrived. We went back to the suite and she ended everything without giving me the slightest chance! She took the train back alone. She wouldn’t let me say anything! I didn’t even speak to him until after you left with Ethan. She hasn’t directly spoken to any of The Brothers. She said she could smell all that she needed to know and that was it.” Ian was teary again. He adored Mrs. Hudson, spoiled her constantly and treated her like she was the very sun in the sky. The abrupt end to their marriage was causing him real pain. The Brother looked concerned and put his arm about Ian to steady him which made Sherlock scowl.

John shook his head. That was an odd answer for some reason but he couldn’t put his finger on it. They completed the flight in silence. The taxi ride to 221 B was uncomfortable as well since Sherlock wouldn’t sit in the back with The Brother and forced the man to ride up front with the driver. Sherlock glared at him the whole way there as well.

Ian exploded from the car as soon as it stopped in front of the door. He was twisting the knob hopelessly. Mrs. Hudson had locked up tight as was her practice. John got there and unlocked it for him so Ian ran inside and began to pound on the door to 221 A. “Martha, open up! You have to speak to me. Don’t do this! Please?”

 

“Go away. You have someone else now. Leave me alone.” She sounded quite tart even through the door and more than a little angry.

“He’s here Martha; he wants to speak to you.” The door opened suddenly. John and Sherlock got their first look at a furious Mrs. Hudson.

“How could you bring that person here Ian? I didn’t want to meet the one you picked! How could you!” she was outraged and Sherlock bristled with her. If looks could kill the alpha would be a pile of dust now.

The Brother tilted his head again and looked confused. “You said she was beta. She is not. She is like my Brother’s mate.” John, Sherlock and Ian looked identically flabbergasted. All three had their mouths hanging open and as one man they turned to Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock strode over and boldly buried his face in her neck as she swatted at him with the tea towel in her hand.

“Sherlock you are being incredibly rude! Sherlock I am going to be cross with you if you don’t stop! Who mated a Brother already? Mai?” Sherlock stood back and yanked John forward, almost shoving the Khagan’s face into her neck. John blushed bright red but drew in a deep breath before also standing back in shock.

Sherlock looked hard at her, “When The Brothers arrived what was the very first thing you noticed?”

Mrs. Hudson frown as she thought, “Well, I believe I thought that they were very striking and then I realized they were all alphas. Then I thought of Ian and how much he wants a baby of his own.”

“How did you realize they were alphas? What was striking about them?” Sherlock was looking at Mrs. Hudson intently.

“Sherlock, why do you need to know? Or for heaven’s sake, they smelled nice. Like good people. I can smell good people you know that! I’ve been doing it for ages now. Ian is a very good person and he deserves what I can’t give him which is a child. I could smell the pheromones and I know what that means! I can’t stay married to him and let him go childless forever! It’s not right!” Mrs. Hudson was getting shrill.

“Mrs. Hudson you have to return to Baskerville with us. There’s a test you need to take and you can only take it there. You may have the same issue as Ethan.” Sherlock didn’t want to say more so everyone else kept silent. Mrs. Hudson was unable to deny the Khan his direct request. John let her get her purse and lock her flat before they led her back to the street. They needed two cabs to get back to their helicopter and the flight was even more awkward than earlier, though minus the intense Sherlock scowl.

Sherlock rushed the entire group straight to the infirmary. The scan wouldn’t be appropriate. Sherlock drew blood instead and ran it through his programs. Waiting impatiently he finally pulled up a screen filled with results. “Mrs. Hudson. Look. You have omega markers now. You’re an omega, not a beta. Just like Ethan. Ethan is omega now too. He’s the one who’s mating a Brother. Ethan accepted The Brother’s proposition.”

Mrs. Hudson needed to sit down. Ian held her hand gently, petting it anxiously as she sat there stunned, “Sherlock. How? How did this happen? When did it happen?”

“I don’t know Mrs. Hudson. We never gave your abilities a thought. You’ve had an incredible sense of smell for years now. Ethan is mature; he can have children so his womb has been developing for years. Who knows how long he’s been ready. You both still exhibit classic beta characteristics but you’re fertile! You can bond with an alpha if you wish, have pups if you want.”

“I can’t have children. I’ve never been able to. You know that Sherlock. I wasn’t surprised when I presented as beta. I’m barren.” Mrs. Hudson sounded so sad. She loved children so much and had never been able to bear her own. The Brother dropped to his knees and like Ethan Mrs. Hudson tried to get away but the wolf pressed his nose to her flat belly and held her tight with a growl.

“You are ripe. Fertile. Omega. You are precious. Strong. Unusual. Bond with me. Stay with Ian, both of you can be mine. It would make Ian happy, it would make you happy. I am a strong alpha. I can care for both of you. It would be my honor to bring you joy.” He stayed on his knees holding Mrs. Hudson’s hand. “Bear my eternal children. I wish it. You are a matched set, perfect together. The scent of you together is the sweetest perfume I’ve ever experienced. I would not wish to sunder that perfection. Join with me instead. I am the Eldest of The Brothers. I offer my status to you; make you the equal under Khan Sherlock. Only he and the Khagan will outrank you both.”

“Children? I can have children?” Mrs. Hudson looked up at Sherlock with tears in her eyes. “Oh Sherlock! Is this true? Can I actually have a child of my own? A real baby?”

“It appears to be so Mrs. Hudson. The choice, as always, is yours. The Brother has made his offer. You can remain married to Ian but both of you can bond with him. He is willing to have you both for himself. He is strong Martha, very strong. Your children will be powerful, a match for ours.” Mrs. Hudson was dabbing at her tears with a wisp of silk. The Brother knelt at her feet with Ian and handed her a soft white handkerchief.

“If I hadn’t run away yesterday in a fit we would have found out right away. Instead I hurt Ian’s feelings for nothing. Oh, I’m so embarrassed.” Now Mrs. Hudson blushed furiously. John and Sherlock took the opportunity to slip discretely out of the room. The three of them would have a lot to discuss and logistics to work out.

“Well. I was not expecting that.” said John in a bemused voice, “What the hell is happening here though Sherlock? How is this happening? Ethan _and_ Mrs. Hudson? Who else has changed? We need to start doing some checking into things right after we see the kids.”

They walked quickly back to their rooms. Greg and Mycroft were waiting anxiously, the children all down for a nap. Six cribs were filled with multiple children as the cousins slept side by side. Sherlock explained the happenings in a few short sentences. Everyone sat on the couches and stared at each other. Sherlock was curious, “Our betas are turning into omegas. We need to figure out how and why. It’s obviously not recent. Ethan would have needed years to reach maturity. Neither Ethan nor Mrs. Hudson have shown any sign of being regular omega. What does that make them? Fertile beta?”

Greg had a different observation. “We can’t keep calling The Brothers by one name. We need to get them to pick names or I’m just numbering them.” Well it was a little confusing to refer to all the brothers as Brothers.

John was sitting there in stunned shock. Sherlock finally looked at his alpha and prodded him gently. John snapped out of his daze with a start, “Mrs. Hudson is going to be in a _threesome_.” he blurted out and everyone reared back in horror.

“John! No one wanted that image in their heads!” It was too late and as one all four men winced. No one wanted to ever think of Mrs. Hudson in that context, no matter how young and beautiful she was now.

“Well. She’ll get a baby out of it at least.” said Greg stoutly. “She won’t need to get divorced from Ian. That’s good for both of them. Ian was heart-broken.” That was true. John now wondered what the three of them were talking about. So many changes made him anxious.

Sherlock turned to John, “Go check on Ethan. Let me know he’s alright. I’d go but I hate all of them right now. Not really but you understand. I don’t want to make assumptions just because I’m upset. Please John?” John nodded and got up. Sherlock looked worried but gave John a kiss before hurrying him out of the suite.

John knocked on Ethan’s door. When it opened he was greeted by a hugely smiling Ethan. “John! Come in. We were just having dinner.” Ethan was clearly incredibly happy. The Brother was standing by the stove and he was stirring something. He turned and nodded respectfully at John. “Are you hungry John? He’s making some kind of stew. It smells fantastic.”

Ethan had a love bite high on his neck and a happy blush to his cheeks. The Brother at the stove showed similar marks on his neck and even on the part of his chest John could see. John looked at Ethan who blushed scarlet and ducked his head shyly. “Thing going well then?” asked John with a soft smile.

Ethan nodded and led John to the living room. “It’s better than I ever could have expected John. He’s gentle even if he looks rough. I feel safe for the first time. If I say no he listens.”

“And if you say yes?” John couldn’t resist teasing Ethan who looked so relaxed and happy. The new omega blushed scarlet all over again.

“He listens then too.” Ethan bit his lip and couldn’t look at John who laughed warmly. “I’m happy John. It’s good. I’ll say yes at the full moon but you probably knew that already.”

“I knew it. I wanted to hear you say it though. Sherlock will be happy to hear you’re happy. He was very worried. You heard about Ian and Mrs. Hudson?” Ethan nodded unhappily but John just patted his hand, “It’s all sorted. She’s back. I think she and Ian will bond with The Brother this full moon as well.” John let that information sink in and then Ethan put it all together.

“She changed too! How John? How did this happen? I mean, yes it was a shock when I found out but now I couldn’t be happier. Is she okay? Is Ian alright?” John tried to answer the questions that tumbled from Ian.

“Yes she changed too. Sherlock ran some blood work and then The Brother….well he smelled her, okay? Then he literally got down on his knees and begged her to bond with him so Ian would be happy. I’m pretty sure she’s going to say yes. She wants children as much as Ian does so I suppose it’s all working out for the best. It’s a lot to deal with though. Are you sure you’re okay? This isn’t too much for you to handle? It’s a lot of stuff in not very much time.” John was worried for Ethan who had been his omega’s close friend for so many years.

Ethan was so different today. John could see the confidence that now radiated from the once timid man. Ethan seemed comfortable in his skin for the first time. The Brother came out of the kitchen and John witnessed Ethan light right up like a thousand watt light bulb. John wondered how Ethan would be after he received the bite that would chemically bond him to The Brother. That reminded John, “Do you really not have your own name or do we need to sort that out too?”

The Brother stood there and looked at John gravely. “We put aside our names when our sister left us. We will not wear them again. Choose names for us if you must, if we live among you with our mates then it is fitting that we wear the names you choose.” John nodded.

“We’ll put some thought into it. I’m going to go spend some time with my family now. Enjoy dinner, congratulations as well.” John shook The Brother’s hand and earned himself a small smile from the huge man. Ethan beamed and allowed himself to be drawn close to his mate, their arms circling each other’s waist. John left them there and returned to Sherlock.

Mycroft and Greg had departed and had taken their children with them. There was a small flock of betas swirling around dealing with John’s children who had woken while he was gone. Soon he was swarmed with small bodies that wanted to crawl all over him in the stickiest of ways. It was marvelous and John felt soothed as his children played happily around him.

Sherlock was lounging on the sofa. The children were pulling themselves up onto the edge of it and wobbling back and forth like chubby anemone. John lay behind them so if they toppled over they would land on him and he could help them back on their feet. He was rewarded with sloppy kisses and elbows to his ribs and other places. It was just what he needed. After the babies wiggled their way across the carpet John let the betas chase after the fast moving tots.

John sat on the sofa and Sherlock rested his head on his lap. John stroked Sherlock’s curls, “I love you Sherlock. This has been the most intense couple of days we’ve had in a long time. How are you holding up?” Sherlock answered by curling his arm under John’s leg and hanging on. John understood and helped Sherlock stand. He looked at the beta closest to him, “Bring the children to their uncles. We’ll collect them later.” They’d have to begin testing all the betas tomorrow, some of their attendants could have experienced a shift and not even know it.

It took a few minutes to round up everyone but soon the betas were marching out of the suite, children in arm as well as favorite toys and snacks. As soon as the door closed John drew Sherlock to their bedroom and shut the door tight. “It seems like it’s been a long time.” said Sherlock softly as John began to kiss his neck.

“We don’t get a lot of private time anymore. I hope Myc and Greg don’t mind a surprise visit from the kids.” Sherlock began to kiss John back, allowing his alpha to lay him back on the bed.

“We’ll take their children tomorrow, give them some time as well.” promised Sherlock. John was nibbling his way over Sherlock’s neck. “It scared me John, the thought of losing Mrs. Hudson, watching Ian fall apart. Everything is so different. I feel scared John. I feel things so much more now. How do you deal with it?”

“I have a lot of sex with my hot husband.” said John. “Or I’d like to at any rate.”

“Let’s make good use of our time then.” Sherlock became demanding but John was more than up to the challenge. The last couple of days had been filled with shocks of every description and both men felt the need to reconnect with one another.

They made love slowly, letting their passions grow until both of them were consumed by it. John showed Sherlock how much he loved him, how desperately he needed Sherlock in his life and how happy he was the Sherlock wanted to be with him as well. Sherlock felt himself become calm and centered again as the devotion from John soothed his ruffled spirit. The dark moment that had troubled them all had been brightened once more and there was a new harmony in Baskerville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could you think I would let Mrs. Hudson suffer for nothing? That hurt. Not a lot but I understand the concept. Now she's going to have babies with her sweetheart and their new wolf-man. Super-babies! High-status super-babies. Yay Mrs. Hudson!
> 
> Okay so The Brothers are going to need names. I'm going to give everyone one day to throw their suggestions in the hat and then I'm going to name our new bad boys. Anything goes, but remember these are nine hot sexy alphas from the north, two are already hitched so that leaves seven romances left to go.


	24. Tests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Brothers have triggered a lot of changes in Baskerville. Some they are responsible for but other they are not.

Shock raced through the werewolf community but lasted only a short while before a sense of determination replaced it. News of Mrs. Hudson and Ethan was embraced as another miracle of Baskerville and every beta around lined up to have a blood-sample taken. The very next day Sherlock and Mycroft took turns minding their children while they worked to oversee the mass of technicians that had been pressed into service for the massive undertaking.

The Brothers were a great help. They were excellent at coordinating themselves to manage the large crowd, utilizing both their alpha status and their obvious yet understated strength to calm and guide everyone until everything flowed so smoothly even Sherlock was content. They were also incredibly attractive and each beta seemed to express the hope that they had changed; most heavily implying that being mated to one of The Brothers would be more than acceptable.

The Brothers were not lacking for offers. Seven remained available and so far none of them had moved with the drastic swiftness of their elder brothers. They were endlessly courteous, their body language as respectful as their words. When other werewolves stood near a Brother they could feel the press of centuries that had shaped each man. They were ancient souls, wise in ways modern wolves could not yet comprehend. They radiated power and every available omega was nearly panting for them.

It enraged Ilva and Siofra. Neither woman wanted to mate again but the magnificence of The Brothers was an almost palpable lure they were finding irresistible. Both women locked themselves away for the morning but by the afternoon they were milling in the crowds with everyone else. Mai, Isabella and Carlotta merely dressed themselves with extra care and allowed the appreciative Brothers view them. The Brothers were a commodity but so were the royal omegas and they had to do nothing except make themselves known. Politely each man behaved exactly the same with each person they interacted with, no one but John and Sherlock received anything other than competent helpfulness.

The Brothers doted on Sherlock. He was still angry with them for causing Mrs. Hudson grief even if it had been temporary. It manifested in an entire day filled with caustic observations and ceaseless demands. All of them pandered to his temper and soothed him with clever compliments and admiration. They praised his work and took turns attending him throughout his day. They made sure he had food at the ready and all the tea he wanted which pleased John. Sherlock was extra difficult but The Brothers took every single action of his as his due and never complained about his rudeness.

It got tense when The Brothers met Vuk. Titania had shown up with her pet in tow. In a blink all nine Brothers had surrounded the collared alpha. Shoulder to shoulder they pressed in around him. For a minute their strange eyes burned. Vuk immediately knelt on the floor silently and bared his neck. Only Titania’s collar kept him from being totally exposed. A soft rumbling growl passed from brother to brother. The growl was almost inaudible and then all nine simply left Vuk kneeling there, a shocked Titania standing off to the side. 

Ethan’s alpha sought him out. The huge man embraced Ethan tenderly and led his lover away immediately. Patrick and Sidney found themselves with a Brother each as a shadow for the rest of the day as well. Siofra and Ilva were pleased and disturbed to find they had two Brothers near them at all times as well and all the Iakov wolves were checked regularly by the rest of the Brothers. The Eldest Brother came to John and asked to speak with him, “Khagan. You have a mad-dog in your pack. He should have been destroyed. His crimes are atrocious! We can smell each cruelty he has done on his own mates! He is an abomination! We ask permission to work with the one who has claimed him. She will need guidance.”

“You want to help Titania train Vuk?” asked John. He was a little surprised at their interest in involving themselves with the matter. The Eldest tilted his head the way he did when he didn’t quite understand.

“The mate wishes to keep the father to her pup, yes? She was a victim of his, yes? She cannot train him alone. Malice will be a part of it and malice is what you will wish him to no longer be comfortable with. She is a wolf! Cruelty is easy, honor is not. She cannot retrain him by simply making him experience the torments he perpetuated! She poisons herself. Omegas must be protected, must be cherished. We will help him to help her. It is the way of it. Do you grant us permission?”

“Of course I do. If I’d thought about it like that I would have helped Titania myself.” John felt awful at his mishandling of the situation but The Brother looked amused. John was suddenly aware of the sense of time he felt. The man in front of him had begun thousands of years in the past. He was almost completely untouched by modern civilization but fit himself in as naturally as breathing. John couldn’t help but feel deferential to the ancient wolf but the man bowed easily and answered with a smile.

“You are barely a pup yourself. You are not even a century old and still smell of your mother’s milk. You have much to learn and no one to teach you. Our sister could not be with you the way she might have wished. She was a good Mother. We will do our best to replace her for you, give you our memories so you may grow and learn as she would have wished. She was the only omega in our pack, the last to be born and so lovely. We cared for her every second of her life until her mate took her away as was his right. They had a great love and his pack cared for her as we did.”

“What happened to them?” Mother would have died alone in that cave if Sherlock hadn’t literally stumbled into her path. How could she have been so loved yet left so entirely alone in the end? John suddenly wanted to know but The Brother looked sad. The big man looked off into the distance for a moment before meeting John’s eyes again.

“Life, life happens to us all. One at a time you will watch your family grow and fail. Time is not kind. We have endured loss beyond counting but that first loss, that of our beloved sister, that was the one we never recovered from. Hold your Sherlock close, he is a treasure. Your children are gifts and I humbly wait for my omegas to give me their blessing. The moon comes soon and they will give me my answer then.” With a small bow The Brother retreated and left John to his thoughts.

John accompanied Sherlock back to their suite to switch off with Mycroft. The brothers passed one another wordlessly but reached out and touched the backs of their hands together fleetingly. Both of them were almost vibrating with the desire to untangle this newest mystery but diplomatically shared both the discovery and their responsibilities between them. “The Brothers are going to retrain Vuk for Titania. They don’t want her to hurt herself by endlessly punishing him.”

Sherlock sat back onto their sofa and curled into John. Their children were swarming around a set of building blocks, all quickly shuffling them around in stacks or color piles. Their game seemed to involve a lot of poking one another and gumming everything that came to hand. “They are rather interesting people. All of them are extremely controlled. I can’t read them at all. They let me see what they wish and no more. I threw my worst at them today and they didn’t so much as blink.”

So Sherlock had been abominable for a reason. That made John feel better, “Did you feel how old they are? The Eldest said he could still smell my mother’s milk on me. It was a bit embarrassing actually. I do feel like a callow youth around them.”

“They honor you as the Khagan and the pup of their sister and me as well. We are their only link to a history no one else shares. I have all their sister’s memories locked into my head and only Mycroft has made any sense of them. Perhaps with some discussion we can learn something from these men that will help us untangle the rest.” Sherlock went to his children and cuddled them all one at a time. John joined him after a minute.

“Are you still mad about Mrs. Hudson?” asked John softly.

Sherlock shrugged and frowned a tiny bit, “It’s an adjustment but it’s her choice as well. I haven’t heard her say she’s going to reject the proposition. She and Ian have stayed with The Brother so I’m guessing it’s sorting itself out. Whether they meant to or not The Brothers are going to cause a lot of upset. Even still, I’m glad they’re here. I feel like we’ve been floundering around all this time but now we’ve got some sort of direction.”

John nodded in understanding. The baby in Sherlock’s arms had grown limp and saggy. All of them were moving slower. Sherlock laid his child in a cot and picked up the next one. With John they cuddled their babies to sleep and soon had all six tucked safely in their beds. They stood there and looked down at them. “The world is a big place John and the universe is infinitely bigger. We must provide these children with every advantage we can conceive. The brothers are such an advantage. I would have them mate as closely to us as possible. I will not dictate who they choose but for our children’s sake I wish to keep them near. We have enough single people in our pack to mate with all of them, especially if more of our betas have been altered.” 

“Patrick and Sidney are married!” protested John but Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at John as if astounded as his thickness.

“Do you think that really matters when it comes to bonding? Look at Ian. He couldn’t help himself and gave right in to the alpha’s interest! Siofra and Ilva are half a step away from handcuffing themselves to their rooms for want of one of The Brothers and they don’t even want to mate! They will though. Their nature demands it. It’s what the omega in them wishes and you can’t fight it. If Patrick and Sidney were given the chance to have children don’t you think they’d leap at it? Mrs. Hudson did.” Sherlock shook his head. That was still a difficult concept to absorb, Mrs. Hudson and her husband having children together but not in the way you might think from hearing it expressed in that fashion.

John was firm, “Siofra and Ilva don’t want to mate because of how Vuk treated them. The Brothers wanted to kill Vuk today, did you know that? They want to put him down like he was diseased. To them omegas are almost venerated. They were horrified that so many omegas have been mistreated. Did you see the divide and protect maneuver? They didn’t even need to discuss it. I don’t think you have to worry Sherlock. I think these men have made their choices already and it’s all in our pack. The other betas and omegas will be heartbroken.”

“As long as I get my way I don’t care.” said Sherlock flippantly and John laughed softly knowing that Sherlock did care and very much. He didn’t want acrimony to blossom among their growing tribe. There were many packs living in the region now and all had been peaceful but The Brothers were bound to cause discord at some point. It seemed inevitable unless something changed. 

As it was John almost couldn’t wait for when it would be the full moon. Now that their pups had changed John was looking forward to a scamper on the moor with their little ones. That would take them away from Baskerville while the bonding was going on and give Sherlock something to focus on. He still hadn’t entered a heat yet and probably wouldn’t until their pups were old enough to be less dependent. Both wolves shifted at the height of the moon but that was it.

“How long do we wait to get results?” John didn’t even need to ask more than that.

“It will take a while to test everyone but the results themselves will come quickly. By tomorrow we’ll know about everyone we tested today. We’ll see if it’s just the betas that live inside the facility or if the change has spread further than that. Once we get an idea who has been altered we can begin to figure out how it happened.” John nodded. He knew the concern he felt was echoed in his mate. He pulled Sherlock tight to him and for several minutes they simply held one another. The future had a lot more variables now and there had been enough to deal with already. John sighed deeply once more and held his husband tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next installment - the naming of The Brothers - thanks to all who submitted names. They were all fantastic and I'm having a devil of a time choosing.
> 
> I just saw the hit counter pass 6000! I'm so amazed and grateful for the attention this story has earned! Next installment is being polished up right now so just hold on, it's almost ready.


	25. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Brothers are choosing names and mates but there is something else going on in Baskerville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This installment is significantly briefer than previous ones but frankly I'm a bit stuck at the moment. I'm dreading what's about to happen and I'm wondering if I have the fortitude to complete this journey.
> 
> Great thanks go to leobutler, Jessie, Sheeplock, moonwings, TyneSwedish for submitting names, all of which I think I managed to squeeze in here. All of them were simply perfect. Thank you again.

John and Sherlock pored over the reports. There were dozens of them. They had the main screen in their room filled with documents as they read their way through the results of the blood-tests submitted. Nearly all the betas in and around Baskerville had made it in yesterday. Today the last of them would be giving their blood to be tested.

All of them had changed. All of them! There wasn’t a single beta around that didn’t have greater or lesser degrees of omega markers in their blood. No one had a clue how it had happened. Sherlock had initially thought exposure from the labs might have done it. Ethan was in there all the time so it was plausible. Mrs. Hudson was all over the facility all the time as well so exposure that way was also plausible.

What wasn’t explainable was how betas that had never set foot in Baskerville more than once had changed! Not all werewolves went there. Most came to meet John and Sherlock a single time before moving to one of the villages nearby or even back to their home territories if that’s where they wanted to live. They didn’t even meet in the facility sometimes. In fact seven of the betas tested had never once been inside Baskerville except when they had come in yesterday to give their blood.

The altered betas had no way of sensing if they’d changed or not. The men didn’t feel the womb that had either grown or was growing inside them and the women didn’t experience anything different than normal. Their drives were all the same as usual and except for Mrs. Hudson’s sense of smell nothing about the betas seemed different with one glaring exception. They were all fertile.

Betas married other betas or humans if they married at all. They weren’t as emotionally dependent as the other two sub-genders. Their job was to be level headed when their leaders were blinded by lust during the full moon, trusted to look after their den and children. Betas couldn’t bond, or at least, they used to be unable to bond. The next full moon was two and half weeks away and The Brothers that had found mates would be taking them as their own. They’d have to wait and see if the bond took or not. Omegas could only be impregnated by an alpha and the only alpha/beta unions so far were Mrs. Hudson with Ian and The First Brother along with Ethan and The Brother that had so instantly chosen him.

The Brothers were having a time of it. They were flooded with romantic proposals. Every single beta around wanted an alpha now. They wanted werewolf babies and the full moon was so very close. Ethan was getting upset as more and more people hit on his mate. He was insecure and still delicate of heart. Finally his Alpha bent Ethan backward in front of a whole crowd of betas and kissed the man until Ethan was limp in his arms. Sucking a huge mark on Ethan’s neck the alpha snarled savagely at everyone until a huge empty space formed around them. After that display no one tried to approach Ethan’s partner again. The tall man caressed Ethan’s cheek tenderly and leaned down to whisper softly in his lover’s ear until Ethan calmed and became contented. He wrapped his arms around the wild man and allowed himself to be openly loved and comforted.

A smattering of the younger omegas threw themselves at Ian and Mrs. Hudson’s alpha before being hauled away by their ear by embarrassed parents or other relatives. The younger wolves had less control over their urges but that was no excuse for putting a frown on Mrs. Hudson’s face. After the fifth or sixth time this happened the alpha announced that he was taking a name, “I shall be called Dominic Àdhamh Hudson.” Mrs. Hudson blushed in pleased surprise as he took her last name. She had always kept it as a reminder of how the choices you made often ended up giving you results you never expected. He kissed her and Ian in front of everyone as well, not making a display of it like Ethan’s partner had but still making it known that he was mated if not bonded, “I belong to you both and no one else.”

When Ethan and his mate returned a couple of hours later there was a matching love-bite on the alpha’s neck and Ethan had a permanent blush on his cheeks. The Brother listened to the Eldest’s new name and then announced loudly, “My mate has chosen a name for me. From now on I shall be known as Magnus Leannan. Ethan will be my mate and no other!” That brought a lot of disgruntled frowns from the gathered singles that had been hoping to catch the eye of any of The Brothers.

The rest of The Brother’s gathered. They looked at Dominic and Magnus. One at a time they stepped forward and called out their new names, “Claudius Trocaire”; “Urraim Neart”; “Firinne Misneach”; “Gaiscioch Curam”; “Alexander Muinin”; “Dimitri Otto”; and finally “Cosantoir Vincent”. John stared as each name was announced. He’d never be able to remember those! He’d never even heard of most of the names but the elder brothers seemed to be both amused and content with the selections.

“I would have thought they’d have the same last name at least.” commented Greg. He and Mycroft were there with all the children. The tots were wiggling away across the green and making a break for it. Laughing betas scooped them up and turned them back toward their parents to keep crawling quickly.

“I think it makes it easier actually.” said Sherlock. “They’re all about to start dynasties. Even though they are brothers I think it will be a lot easier to have different last names for each great family. I mean, we blended our names together so our children won’t have the exact same last name as their cousins.”

The names spread around the compound like wildfire and soon besotted betas and omegas were making cards or other love tokens for the alpha’s they were interested in. The men bowed respectfully and refused to receive anything, asking Sherlock to intervene for them, “We have no wish to encourage suitors. We will choose our mates and not have a potential mate present themselves to us!” Sherlock yelled at everyone who was throwing themselves at the alpha, brutally castigating entire packs until the crowds ebbed away and there were only the regular amount of people in the compound. The Brothers thanked Sherlock for his assistance, “Beautiful Khan, we must be allowed to choose for ourselves. It would be wrong for our mate to need to approach us! We must recognize them as is proper, as Dominic and Magnus have done.”

They were slowly getting Sherlock accustomed to his title by always including an endearment or compliment with it. Sherlock had stopped protesting the use of it almost immediately as they fawned over him. They had become Sherlock’s big brothers, even taking Mycroft under their collective wing as they showed Sherlock how devoted to him they already were. The Khan fulfilled a need in them, a social dynamic they had not enjoyed since the centuries since they’d served their much loved sister. Sherlock and John were her last pups and even if they weren’t they were still the Khan and Khagan, worthy and needing The Brothers.

This requirement was exactly how Siofra and Ilva found themselves with suitors who presented themselves to the unwilling omegas. With smoldering eyes and irresistible intensity Claudius and Urraim set out to win the omegas for themselves. Both men couldn’t help the pheromones they exuded but neither man pressured their chosen. Instead they allowed the women to rake them over the coals, savagely attacking each man with harsh words and blatant doubts. For every weakness the omegas noted the man would produce a counter-strength. By the end of the day the royal omegas were nearly in tears as they submitted.

It took a large part of the day but Claudius had successfully wooed Siofra and Ilva found herself tenderly on the arm of Urraim, both men filled with endless compliments about how clever the women were, how impressed The Brothers were with their accomplishments, how very strong they were and how breathtakingly beautiful. Once they had gained the reluctant approval of their chosen omegas both alphas seemed to almost glow with happiness. Their feelings were so apparent that both Ilva and Siofra blushed and tried not to look pleased but they were.

The next three brothers stepped up. Mai, Carlotta and Isabelle had made themselves entirely unavailable, working hard in the labs as was their wont. They refused to look at The Brothers that approached them but the scents they emitted gave lie to their unwillingness. With more soft words and passionate promises all three women left the labs on the arms of their new mates.

Firinne had caught Isabelle, Gaiscioch had successfully obtained Carlotta and Dimitri, who was by far the largest of the wolves next to Dominic, proudly walked the tiny Mai out of the labs. The three men were courtly and well-mannered as they led their mates-to be away. They remained that way, carefully wooing their intended even though their consent had already been gained. This impressed the omegas very much. It was clear that The Brothers thought very highly of their mates and had no intention of causing their omegas any distress nor would they tolerate even the slightest disrespect to their treasured omega.

The rest of the omegas in Baskerville tensed and waited. There were two brothers left and dozens of omegas to choose from. The crowds of excited and disappointed beta began to turn their interests to the single alphas who still roomed together at the alpha apartments. They were mostly men but a handful of female alphas were grinning as hard as they could as their playing field got thrown wide open.

It was the end of the day when the last two of The Brothers made their choice. To no surprise to John and Sherlock, Alexander and Cosantoir walked betas Patrick and Sidney back to their suite, shut the door behind them and did not come out until the next morning. When they emerged it was difficult to tell who had mated with whom since all four were extremely affectionate with each other. John asked outright and politely Alexander informed him that he planned to bond with Patrick whom he found extraordinary and that Cosantoir was almost speechless with desire for Sidney. The couple had tentatively agreed to remain married to one another after accepting their bond-mates at the full moon but had promised each other a simple divorce if it seemed that being four together would not work. Sherlock commented privately to John and said it was likely that Patrick and Sidney would amicably divorce once they were bonded, both being very monogamous. They’d also likely remain good friends as well as co-workers but the marriage would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Sherlock only kept half an eye on the unfurling romances. He was engrossed with his brother in trying to figure out what happened to the betas. Their project to save the delta children was postponed until they solved this. They needed to know how it happened.

Both men sat down and began a ponderous review of the facility. Every part was sectioned off and intently inspected by teams of technicians. Mycroft and Sherlock were buried in reports, only emerging from the piles when it was their turn to tend to their children. It took weeks to go through every part of the sprawling facility. In the end they discovered a single filtered chimney had been compromised. A winter storm years ago had blown a single hawthorn pin down the stack. It was still there, its fine point jabbed shallowly into the filter. That’s all it had taken and years worth of The Breath Of Life had escaped into the atmosphere to change the betas near and far.

Sherlock had been stunned when it was discovered. He looked at John with the beginnings of horror and dismay. If the betas had changed without knowing what else had happened? Who else had changed? How far had The Breath traveled? Did it weaken as it dispersed? With a sinking feeling Sherlock and John realized that their sheltered existence had suddenly become extremely threatened. They looked at their babies and then over the rest of their complex. Thousands of lives were directly affected by them. Now millions could be affected. Billions! The entire planet could be affected!

The leak was sealed but it was already too late. The contamination had already occurred and had been occurring for a long time. There was nothing the couple could do but try to determine the eventual outcome somehow.

 

Royal Pack

 


	26. The Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betas have been affected and The Brothers have chosen their mates as well as new names. What more can happen at Baskerville?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book-keeper - thank you so much for the lovely cuddle idea. I loved it and made sure to make room for it during my story.
> 
> Thank you also to everyone who has given me feedback - your ideas and support mean a lot.

It was the night of the new moon and The Brothers had been here nearly a month now. The facility emptied of everyone except the Royal pack. The villages that surrounded the area were filled with anticipation. Children were given over to mated couples while pair after pair of potential new mates prepared themselves for the three days of hedonistic bonding that was about to hopefully occur.

The bonds between alphas and omegas were a guarantee. The act that had everyone excited and worried was the beta bonds. No one was sure if they would work but there was a full data set happening this very night and in three days everyone would know if the dozens of attempts had worked or not. The Brothers were confident. They had scented their mates and knew they had made the right choices. Bonding was a formality for them, they had already chosen so if the bond did not take they would stay by their mate for eternity no matter what.

By the time dusk fell Baskerville was a ghost town. Everything had been shut down; there was no one to take care of anything while the full moon was happening. Sherlock had made the decision after he realized that every single beta they normally depended on would want at least this full moon to bond with their partners. Some had been in loving matches for decades, or even centuries in some cases. The chance to finally bond with their beloved partners wasn’t something Sherlock was prepared to take away from anyone, at least this month. He and John just settled themselves into 221 B Barker Street with their pups and planned to have a little work free family time.

The babies were playing. When they were in a silly mood they’d shift into their tubby puppy bodies so it was easier to get around, bite each other and worry on their parent’s toes. John was their favorite toy and often their father would shift with them so they could jump all over him, bite on his tail and sit on his head. John absolutely loved being overrun with his children. Sherlock was chatting with Mycroft via their screen, discussing the ramifications of the beta shift. Both men were extremely worried about collateral damage. From what they could find out every beta on the planet had changed. All of the betas were happy for it but their feelings weren’t what worried the Holmes brothers.

The Breath had traveled the globe and was strong enough even severely diluted as it was to change every single beta werewolf! Did that mean that all delta pregnancies had automatically resulted in epsilons? What about people who had lived their whole lives not knowing they were descended from werewolves. What would happen to them when they breathed in The Breath? Was it getting stronger or weaker? Did it dissipate or had it been accruing in the atmosphere this entire time? Was it bonding with the elements in the air, the very elements that had been bonded to Sherlock’s venom to produce The Breath in the first place?

Finally Mycroft smiled and sighed, “Brother tonight is not the time to work on this. The sun has set now and I would like to spend time with my family.” They said their goodbyes and ended their conversation. Sherlock got up and made dinner for his family while John was being gnawed on by all six children. The omega was pensive and worried but John let him be, knowing Sherlock just needed a few minutes to still his mind so he could focus on his family.

Dinner was always a mess. The children had quickly learned to play with their food and wrestling six babies who could shift into puppies into six high chairs was no easy feat. It was a lot of fun though; neither Sherlock nor John could stop laughing as their babies smeared food all over themselves even as they shoved in handfuls into their fat little faces. “John they eat just like you.” teased Sherlock. John rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. He’d learned to eat fast since he’d become Khagan and he wasn’t always neat.

Dinner concluded John and Sherlock hauled their pups to the bathroom and everyone got washed up. They’d learned that the babies absolutely loved the shower so they plopped all of them in there and let their pups frolic in the warm water until they were clean and wrinkly. One at a time John extracted them as Sherlock kept a careful eye on the remainder. Each child was dried, diapered and put into a sleeper for the night.

By the time the bath was done the children were moving slower. The giggles were less frequent and their little games were more about leaning up one on another and trying to keep their eyes open. Sherlock turned on some classical music to play softly in the background. One at a time the babies fell asleep where they were. Once everyone was tucked into their own crib Sherlock and John were able to go to their room with a tired sigh.

They watched their children sleep via their screen for a while before Sherlock admitted that they were doing fine and that they could relax for the night. Their babies were good sleepers and after such a big meal they should make it till dawn without waking. 

John walked up to his omega slowly, “You look beautiful Sherlock.” Sherlock did. His curls were wild and hung on his neck temptingly. His pale skin shone and his eyes were brilliant. John noted once again how the subtle curves of Sherlock’s body gave him that undefinable air, that mystery that no one else shared. Sherlock was the perfect combination of male and female, viewed as either he was always breathtaking and gorgeous. John stroked his fingertips over the bared skin at Sherlock’s neck. “Gorgeous.”

Sherlock’s cheeks flushed a smallest amount as his alpha praised him. John slowly unbuttoned the long tunic Sherlock had been wearing and kissed each new expanse of silky skin as it became available. He never got tired of tasting Sherlock. They had so little time for intimacy and tonight John wanted it so much. Pushing the fabric away John knelt in front of Sherlock and took him into his mouth, sucking slowly until Sherlock was trembling and gripping John’s shoulders tightly. “John…please….I want you.” 

The naked want in Sherlock’s voice was enough to make John growl hungrily. Sherlock bucked and shoved himself deep but John just took him eagerly. Sherlock moaned deeply and pulled away, “On the bed.” commanded John and Sherlock went. Stripping himself quickly John pulled the now seldom used lube from the drawer before lowering himself onto Sherlock’s body.

They rubbed against one another slowly, simply enjoying the feel of their mate. Their arousal was already vast, their hunger for one another piqued. John took the lube and pressed it into Sherlock’s long fingered hand, earning a wicked smile from his husband, “Oh yes John.”

Suddenly John was on his back, his legs high and wide as Sherlock slicked his fingers, the wicked expression not ebbing one jot. The omega teased his husband open, sucking small kisses onto his inner thighs as he worked, licking over John’s cock but not taking it in at all. John was destroyed. He was groaning shamelessly by the time Sherlock had prepared him. When Sherlock lifted John’s leg to rest it over his shoulder they shared a heated look and then Sherlock pushed in.

He kept it slow and deep. Sherlock let his hands caress John all over, stroking his cock occasionally but prolonging their session as much as he could, “I love fucking you John. It’s been so long since I’ve been in this incredible ass. Have you missed it?”

“God yes! We need to do this more often. Fuck is it good!” John could barely speak. Sherlock’s cock was brushing against his prostate with teasing regularity, just enough to keep John almost shaking with desire but not enough to tip him over the edge. The sight of Sherlock owning him like this was almost kinky now, if they hadn’t been werewolves Sherlock would be the dominant partner in their marriage; if they’d gotten married.

Sherlock lay on John, “We would have gotten married. I loved you too much even back then to really let you move on. I would have made you mine somehow John.” Sherlock kissed John passionately, “I love you John. I loved you so much right from the start. You’re the best man in the world, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you and I wanted you with me every minute from the second we met.”

“So it’s not just because I’m a hot sexy alpha?” teased John before he bit Sherlock’s full lower lip and tugged at it. Sherlock growled and thrust sharply, making John gasp. Sherlock sat back on his heels again and yanked John’s hips onto his lap. He set a punishing pace then, riding John furiously until both men were struggling to contain their shouts.

Just when John thought he was going to lose his mind Sherlock leaned over again, “You are MINE John Watson. You always have been from the second we met. I knew it even if I didn’t want to admit it. I was a proud fool who thought my heart was something useless, a hindrance. You showed me that I just hadn’t found a reason TO use it and now I do. You. You are my reason John, in every sense of the word. You are my reason for staying sane. You are my reason for living. You are my reason for facing eternity. You. Are. Everything.”

Their orgasm was blinding. Sherlock’s head snapped back and both men couldn’t help the long drawn out moans that came very close to being howls that they both released. John loved the way Sherlock’s hips rode smoothly into him as his omega filled him with his essence. He loved the rapture on Sherlock’s face, that almost slack look he got when his orgasm was particularly fine. John loved how big Sherlock was, how full he felt, how the throb of Sherlock’s cock inside him made his own orgasm almost too sharp to deal with. They collapsed together in a sweat soaked embrace. Sherlock rocked his hips slowly and both men enjoyed the sensation of his softening cock for a minute before Sherlock pulled away to lie beside John.

His omega didn’t let him recuperate long. Soon Sherlock’s hands were drifting over John’s body. “You know what I need.” murmured Sherlock. John nodded. “Blood John, make it hurt.”

John made it hurt. With a growl he was on Sherlock savagely. He bit and clawed at his omega, scratching bloody furrows into his pale flesh as Sherlock mewled and begged for more. Slowly their sheets became heavily spotted with drops of crimson as John savaged Sherlock eagerly. He bit into his bond-mark, renewing it and felt the rush of endorphins flow through them both as their chemical bond united them even closer than ever. 

John lifted Sherlock up and carried him to the far wall. Shoving him against it John hooked Sherlock’s long legs over his shoulders and pounded into his omega until Sherlock’s eyes nearly crossed. Suddenly Sherlock’s passage was slick and right in front of John’s eyes Sherlock silvered. It had been so long. With a snarl both men shifted and John took Sherlock roughly again, biting his neck until drips of red fell to the floor, his long cock knifing in and out of his omega rapidly.

Both of them felt John’s knot form. It was massive. Sherlock whimpered at last and struggled halfheartedly but John wasn’t letting him get away. With a cruel shove John forced his knot into Sherlock. Both of them bit back their howls as the pain of their union caused Sherlock to orgasm so hard his legs gave out. 

John kept pumping his hips. It hurt to move too much but the pain and pleasure were what Sherlock needed so John gave it to him. He rocked back and forth the tiny bit he was able and reveled in the helpless cries he wrung from his lover. With abandon John rode his husband even harder, triggering a dry orgasm that made Sherlock shake all over like he was having a seizure. John wanted to howl in triumph as his omega writhed and panted. This was HIS omega and no one else. John would take and keep Sherlock for himself forever!

Sherlock clenched down and twisted his hips just right. John’s mind shorted out as he began the longest orgasm of his life. He shook like a leaf, his hips driving mindlessly forward as he pumped his omega full of his seed. The smell of Sherlock was everywhere on John, in John and around John. Their mental bond was as strong as it had ever been so John could almost feel Sherlock’s mind shut down as the pleasure became too much for his beloved to deal with.

Sometime later John found that they had shifted back and were lying on the floor covered in blood and come. Sherlock was humming happily, boneless and so sated he probably wasn’t even aware of his body. John managed to get himself to his feet. Carefully he gathered up Sherlock’s limp frame and carried him to the shower. Sherlock stood under the water almost mindless, not caring where he was or what they were doing. John didn’t think Sherlock even minded when he expelled John’s unused seed, if he even noticed. That was good. John never wanted to see that kind of despair on Sherlock’s face ever again. Sherlock’s eyes had returned to normal and when John looked at the clock he was surprised to see that the peak of the moon had come and gone. It was nearly daybreak.

He’d just changed the bedding when he heard the first pup whine unhappily. John’s ears perk and in the distance he could hear howl after howl as different couples bonded. They shouldn’t be able to hear that but if you listened carefully the howls were there. The children could hear it and it was distressing them. “Bring them here.” said Sherlock weakly from the bed where he was laying himself down. “We’ll keep them with us until after it’s all done.”

John nodded and brought his upset children to their mother, all of the little ones whining and tearing up as their father came to get them. As soon as he brought them to Sherlock each babe tried to cling to him until Sherlock was covered with tiny arms and sobbing faces. When the last babe was in the bed John arranged himself so that they were snuggled between their two bodies. “Shift.” He commanded and everyone did. 

Now they were a warm pile of soft fur. One at a time the babies latched onto their mother, suckling at Sherlock’s dry teats for the comfort of it. John wiggled up until their fat little bodies were pressed tight between them. He licked Sherlock’s face tenderly and watched over his family as the children settled. Sherlock was rumbling softly, soothing his children with warm huffs of air. Both men flicked their tails up so they covered their babies. One at a time the pups fell asleep, their little mouths falling from their mother as they collapsed into sleep.

Several hours later there was a light knock at the door. John eased himself away from his family and shifted into his man-shape, remembering at the last minute to pull a robe on. It was Greg. “Hey John, Myc and I were thinking of bringing the kids to the moor today, let them run around. Do you want to come? We’re thinking after lunch.” That was a great idea. John nodded and Greg went back to his suite. There would be no work for anyone for two more days so an afternoon out would be perfect.

It was a lot of fun if somewhat tricky for two people to bring six babies to the moor. Once they were outside the kids shifted and began to ramble all over the short grass and rocks gleefully. All eleven pups rolled and nipped each other until their little puppy smiles were making their parents laugh. Though they were young and uncoordinated as puppies their mobility was excessively greater than when they were babies. Greg and John had also hauled out two big picnic baskets inside a rolling cart that held extra clothes and a picnic blanket.

Their children fell onto the food like the little wolves they were. In no time John and Sherlock were sharing a single plate of the scant remains while their children rolled around, bloated and content. Mycroft had intelligently eaten before they’d left and Greg had a piece of fruit that had escaped the ravening horde. When the sun started to get low in the sky they packed up their weary children and returned to the still silent facility. It was almost eerie. Tonight would be the peak of the full moon and the first night for the fully bonded partners to really be with one another.

An early supper and another long shower saw John and Sherlock’s pups hard asleep early in the evening. The alpha took the time to make his omega some special treats which he then hand fed to Sherlock as they enjoyed their evening. It was quiet and romantic, so different that the night before which had felt almost out of control. When Sherlock silvered though, things got rough and loud all over again. John was completely happy.

The next morning they were still at breakfast when they heard a firm knock at the door. It was Titania and she looked strange. John felt worry and took her hands. She turned her big eyes up to John, “Delta shifted last night. All the children did, all of them. It’s The Breath John – someone has broken the containment unit and released it all!” 

They had been betrayed! Someone knew when the facility would be at its weakest. Someone had exacerbated the problematic situation so badly it would take someone like Sherlock a thousand years to track the ramifications. If the deltas had shifted what else had happened? The traces of The Breath had changed all the betas everywhere. The concentrated Breath that remained was now in the air and beyond containment. It would most certainly bond with the elements freely available and spread until there was no part of earth that was not saturated in it. John and Sherlock looked at one another. They had so many questions to answer now and time suddenly felt short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desperately I am trying to avoid the grim reality of Khan's future. I think I may have a happy ending. Working on it but it may not happen so I just don't know. Thanks ever so much for continuing to read and comment. It really helps with the creative process and I live off your energy kind of like a vampire.


	27. Dark Harvest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The facility has been breached and The Breath has been released. The Hounds of Baskerville must do everything they can to search for reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is considerably harsher than others. If you get queasy you might not want to read this bit. I've altered the tags accordingly.

His name was Edward. He was a short lean man with ragged brown hair and plain brown eyes. He was dressed in rags and he was filthy. Vuk was the one who found him, easily tracking the scent of the small man like the bloodhound he was. All the time Vuk spent trailing after his mate had paid off because Edward was trying to hide in the facility, wedged into a closet filled with cleaning products that did not quite hide his scent. He was terrified and what they learned about him made everyone ill.

Edward was an alpha, at least technically. He was half a step away from being feral, was highly trained to react to commands as well as visual clues and had a two thick bands of scarring on his neck where he’d clearly been collared since before he had been turned into a werewolf. Edward had no memory of his life before becoming someone’s dog. He didn’t know how old he was. Edward knew his master’s face but not his name, referring to the man only by his title. He groveled instantly when Vuk found him and almost couldn’t get off the floor when John and The Brothers arrived.

Edward had been trained to do what he did and once it was done he’d been abandoned to his fate. His Master had provided Edward with no escape plan, no resources and no information. The shivering werewolf had been carefully brainwashed until he was balanced on the edge of insanity, ready to shatter at the slightest pressure. “Master said to break the glass. That’s all. I didn’t have to hurt anyone, I don’t like hurting people even when Master makes me. Breaking glass is alright.”

Edward didn’t understand what he’d done. He hadn’t just broken some vial. He’d shattered the long glass pipe that held Sherlock’s collection of undiluted processed venom. Carefully stored in an air-tight container the blended venom was a stable substance and not apparently dangerous so it hadn’t been locked away with any greater security than anything else. Normally the labs were busy at all times, if this full moon had not been given over for mating Edward would never have been able to succeed. Once exposed to air the venom had gently evaporated and wafted out of the venting system.

“How long did you prepare for this?” John asked the man gently. He could see as well as anyone that this poor creature had been considered disposable.

“I’m fast. Very fast for the Master, he showed me the map only once and I remembered!” Edward was so proud of himself and craned his head up as if he expected to be petted. When no pets arrived he slumped down dejected. “Get to the room and break the glass. He said I’d be free after…I wanted that.”

Now Edward seemed to deflate entirely. He knew he wasn’t free and that his Master had lied. The Brothers’ reaction to Edward was interesting. As soon as they had arrived right behind John and Sherlock, Vuk had moved to the wall furthest away and sunk to his knees, eyes on the floor at the first glare from The Brothers. The huge men circled Edward as they had Vuk that first time, all of them sniffing and growling. Dominic reached down and helped Edward stand up. Embracing the shaking man carefully Dominic petted his back and Edward collapsed into the huge alpha’s arms like he really was a small dog. “Good boy,” murmured Dominic tenderly. “Tell us about your Master.”

If Edward had a tail it would be wagging. “Master is special. Master is different. Master has NO SCENT. It’s true! Master has to wear cologne so Edward can trail him for our games.”

Cosantoir held out his arms and Dominic passed Edward over. Edward didn’t seem to mind the exchange and just shivered like a small dog, not cold, but just shivering. The Brother resumed petting the little man and rumbling soothingly. Edward was very happy with all the positive attention and arched into every gentle caress eagerly. John and Sherlock were sickened.

“Did Master tell you why you needed to break the glass?” asked Cosantoir with gentleness. Edward shook his head vigorously.

“Master never tells Edward. No. Not ever. Edward still knows. Master wants to be like Edward but better. Master cannot change. Master tried. It made him angry and he hurt Edward for not being good enough. I’m sorry! Tell Master I’m good? I did it right, I broke the glass and now Master will be better.”

“How did the Master know where the room was?” asked The Brother tenderly. Edward was almost shaking with happiness at the continued petting and the warm embrace that Cosantoir provided. He snuggled in tight, a small smile on his strangely wild face.

“Master was here a long time ago. Master is clever, very clever. He has magic eyes everywhere.” Magic eyes? This confused everyone so Cosantoir asked Edward to explain. “Magic eyes are what that Master uses to see places. Master has eyes all over the world. Master has a magic book that lets him see through the eyes. Master is clever, so very clever. He’s been watching this place for a long time. It’s his favorite place. He does not let Edward look in the magic book because Edward is not clever.”

“What does the magic book look like Edward?” Cosantoir let his hand drift over Edward’s head and down over his shoulders, absently scratching his way through the matted locks of Edward’s filthy hair. Edward was so happy. He lifted a thin trembling arm and pointed to the counter where various pieces of equipment rested including a laptop. “Thank you Edward, you are such a good boy. That was very helpful.”

Edward quivered with joy. John and Sherlock were looking at one another in dismay. There were cameras planted in the facility, cameras they’d never found, never noticed. Mycroft and Greg stepped forward and blinked. John knew they had blended to discuss something and then they blinked again, Greg simply walking away. “He’ll come back with Ilva and Mai. We’re going to sweep every inch of this facility starting with the labs.”

The Brothers took Edward away. They seemed to understand that he was as much a victim of this crime as anyone else who would be affected by it. Sherlock was horrified. “Clearly the Master is a delta who did not change when bitten. If this Master person has been here we’ll need to go over the old facility records to see if we can find an image that Edward recognizes. With this amount of contamination I think he planned to trigger a global shift in deltas everywhere. Most of them won’t understand what’s happening. The contamination has an entire month to circle the globe and expose people. What does that mean? Will everyone be affected? In a month will every human being be a werewolf or only those who were born from one? John. We’re not safe here. We need to prepare for the worst.”

Disguising themselves Sherlock and John left for London immediately after securing their children with Mycroft and Greg. They had contingency plans in place but it would be safer if John and Sherlock left their children at Baskerville until the arrangements were completed. Magnus and Firinne went with them; both alphas ranging ahead of the royal pair protectively. It wasn’t enough. They were assaulted as soon as they approached Baker Street where Anthea was to meet them. The attack was well planned and swift. Sherlock was neatly separated from all three alphas when van pulled up beside them on the street and out poured several men in riot gear. In less than a second they’d shoved themselves between Sherlock and John, pulling the omega into the van and racing away before the enraged wolves could do more than rake their fingers uselessly over the paint.

Anthea showed up seconds too late but had the van tracked via CCTV until it entered an underground parking lot. John suddenly went mad. “THEY’RE HURTING HIM!” he screamed, his back rigid with pain. He wanted to howl. He wanted to rip himself apart. Sherlock was being carved open; something was being taken from him. John’s omega was in agony. The Brothers shoved their Khagan into Anthea’s vehicle and they raced through London to get to the parking lot.

They found him in the van. Sherlock was chained to the walls, face up and spread wide, his belly sliced open and bleeding. Sherlock was alive and hurting so much he couldn’t speak. Already his body was repairing itself, the straight cuts on his abdomen pulling together and leaving just the blood behind. Sherlock’s mouth was bloody on one side as well. Firinne savagely ripped the bolts from the frame to allow Sherlock’s arms and legs to be as free as possible.

John held the pieces of Sherlock’s belly together so they healed faster. He was shut down, completely blank as he took away as much of Sherlock’s pain as he could. He didn’t even know he could do it but John felt himself be ripped open, felt the hands reach in and extract something. Sherlock relaxed as his body sealed itself shut and John finally felt the last of his omega heal. “John. My eggs. That’s what they were after. Viable omega eggs. They took a venom sac too.”

John wanted to howl all over again. Their future children! Someone had stolen their children away and John wanted to destroy whoever had done this horrific thing to his Sherlock. The Brothers were nearly as wild with rage. “We’ve been tricked more than once, someone is playing a long game and we didn’t see it coming. Sherlock, darling, can you move? We need to get you back home. Anthea, you’ll have to come yourself. We can’t work through intermediaries and we can’t risk introducing someone new to Baskerville.” Anthea nodded.

They carried Sherlock into the car where John held his omega on his lap, Magnus on one side and Firinne on the other. Anthea dismissed the driver and took them herself back to the helipad. The flight home was silent and grim, John not letting Sherlock go even for an instant. All three alphas were wracked with guilt and feelings of failure as well as abject shame. The scent of it filled the entire cabin. Sherlock rolled his head back, “Stop it. This was carefully planned. They had everything timed perfectly. There was no way to stop them. We need to find out who it was and how to prevent them from doing whatever it is that they’re doing. Stop feeling guilty and focus on what we can do instead of what we can’t change.”

John nearly wept with pride for his omega. Sherlock was so strong, so incredibly amazing. He had just been cut open while fully conscious after being kidnapped in broad daylight but now there he was, same as always and thinking about the next thing they needed to do. John’s arms tightened around his husband and Sherlock buried his face in John’s neck, breathing in the alpha’s scent so deeply John knew Sherlock was only alright because John was there. He wanted to weep again. He loved his husband so very much. Almost losing him like that had been as horrific a shock as seeing what had happened to him.

Mycroft and Greg were waiting for them. John carried Sherlock from the helicopter all the way back to their rooms. Silently Magnus called his brothers and they ranged themselves around Sherlock protectively. They weren’t going to risk their Khan a second time, not even here. Mycroft threw up when he learned what happened to his little brother. He had needed to rush to the bathroom and everyone could hear his reaction. “We got their scent for whatever good that does us. We don’t know where they went after they took what they wanted.”

Mycroft came back in the room. He was pale. “Cloning. They’re going to clone Sherlock.” Now every single person in the room was frozen in shock. “The eggs aren’t to reproduce with. Whoever it is will have access to a lab where Sherlock’s eggs will be used to begin the cloning process. I imagine the venom sac will be used to change the clone into a werewolf at the appropriate time. They’re cloning him.”

John wanted to be sick too now. Somewhere out in the world, somewhere soon if not already cells were being extracted to begin the long complex process. It could be done. John was a doctor still and in contact with all the leading medical organizations on the planet. Cloning had come a very long way since it’s halting early days. It didn’t even take long. In a year somewhere there would be a fully grown Sherlock copy waking up for the first time, brand new and completely blank. The entire process was completely illegal but that didn’t stop its development and evolution. Anyone with enough money could create to correct environment and there was a surplus of easily bought people who would gladly do the work, no questions asked. John didn’t need to be a super-genius to figure out who had done it, “The Master.”

“Likely John, this seems to be a very complicated plan that takes into consideration every move we have to make.” Sherlock shifted on John’s lap, his hands brushing at his belly. “It itches.” Sherlock was still covered in dried blood. John stood, still carrying his husband and took Sherlock to their bedroom en suite.

They held each other for a long time, ignoring everyone who was waiting for them up front. John turned the shower on and stripped off Sherlock’s ruined disguise before stripping himself and helping Sherlock under the water. Once there Sherlock’s shoulders began to tremble and John held him painfully tight as Sherlock wept away his fear and shock. Now that he was safe Sherlock was able to let himself feel everything he’d shut off the second he’d been taken. John let his omega keen away his pain, let Sherlock cry for as long as he wanted.

When Sherlock’s tears finally stopped falling John led him out of the water and dried him tenderly. Mrs. Hudson came in, uncaring of their nudity and gave Sherlock his favorite robe and handed John his as well. “We’re taking the children to our suite. Half the brothers will stay with us; the rest will be in the hallway outside.”

John nodded. Sherlock needed John tonight. They loved their children but neither man wanted to traumatize the little ones with the intensity of emotions that Sherlock would need to work through tonight. “Bring my jumpers and the duvet off our bed. We’ll use a different one but if the babies get fussy they can cuddle it. Mrs. Hudson nodded and left.

Shock was finally settling in and Sherlock was shaking hard. John picked him up and carried him to their bedroom. Stripping them both naked John set Sherlock in the center and began to scent him. John wasn’t thinking as he ran his nose over every part of his mate. Instead he let his instincts guide him as he covered his lover in his own scent while taking Sherlock’s into himself. When John got to Sherlock’s belly there wasn’t a trace of the devastation left. John lipped his way over it carefully, mouthing away the painful memories and reassuring Sherlock that his alpha was not upset with him, that he loved and cherished him and that he would never stop no matter what.

John begged for Sherlock’s forgiveness for not being a better alpha, for not preventing Sherlock from being plucked from his side in just a heartbeat. John felt his shame down in his bones. He’d allowed the most precious thing in his life be taken and hurt. John would never forgive himself until the perpetrators were caught and punished. John grieved for the children they wouldn’t have, their little lives stolen before they could even begin. “We’ll have others John. Eventually it will all grow back.”

John almost wept again as Sherlock’s comment cut through his agonizing. The alpha moved so he was face to face with Sherlock, holding him tight. His womb would need looking at; to see how much had been cut away. It was the one part of the wolf anatomy that grew slowly. John was grateful suddenly that the kidnappers hadn’t decided to just kill Sherlock while he had been helpless. They could have done it easily. Maybe they didn’t know that he wouldn’t just bleed out from being gutted like an animal and harvested. Still, they knew enough, more than enough. The Hounds had an enemy and John thirsted for blood.

The moon wasn’t full when it rose that night but the howls rang from the facility anyway as The Brother’s gave voice to their remorse and rage. John threw his head back and joined them, unable to resist the primal urge to let his enemies know John would destroy them. One at a time more and more alphas joined the song until every last one was throwing their defiance into the air. The Khan had been hurt. No one was safe. The wolves were on edge because their days of innocence were over. Someone knew about werewolves, someone cruel and selfish. They’d played their hand and did not know that they had just engaged a pack that was connected to every part of the world. Somewhere in the world was someone about to die horribly. It was just a matter of time.

The days that passed were filled with tension and fear. News poured in from all over the world as Mycroft and Greg triggered the network they had spent so many years building. Piece at a time they eliminated the potential people that could have perpetrated the crime. A week after the contamination the first of the stories began to circulate the world.

Miracles.

Miracles everywhere.

Hospitals reported a huge upswing in people emerging from comas, pulling through debilitating injuries that should have killed them. It started small, mostly England at first but eventually the stories were coming from everywhere. As the days turned into one week and then another week it was apparent that people were healing. Diseases were ebbing, in some cases disappearing entirely. Cancers shrunk and left their victims hale. Terminal illnesses disappeared, the people who had suffered them searching for someone to thank for their second chance. Abnormal pregnancies corrected themselves and even the common cold seemed to vanish. Some incredible cases even reported the regeneration of lost limbs, even ones that had been gone for years.

The Age of Miracles had begun and the wolves still didn’t know who the Master was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the first halting steps on my new path.....I hope it all works out.


	28. The Full of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Breath has escaped. Sherlock has been attacked. The world is on the brink of something new and the wolves can do nothing to stop time from moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of the threads have been laid and the tapestry is ready to come together.

Sherlock didn’t go anywhere alone anymore. The Brothers ghosted along with him regardless of what Sherlock needed to do or how long he was going to be doing it. It was a testament to how badly he had been traumatized by the attack that he didn’t complain even once. John found he was only able to leave Sherlock’s side if he KNEW that at least four of The Brothers were with him. Indeed, The Brothers often stayed with Sherlock all the time except to sleep or spend time with their bonded mates. 

All the bonds had succeeded. For the majority of couples it was complete and utter bliss. For a handful of fools it was a life-time connection to a person they’d only planned on sleeping with once, just to see what it was like to pretend to be actual alphas and omegas. There were several pregnancies as well, all the expectant parents delirious with love and happiness.

Of the Hounds only Titania, Ilva, Siofra, Isabelle and Mai were not impregnated. Titania continued to refuse Vuk’s request until The Brothers approved of him, the others still needed to be convinced, a task their new bonded mates found most reasonable. To The Brothers, making their mates happy was their primary concern. If they did not wish children yet then The Brother vowed to convince their beloved by the sweetest methods possible, nothing else would be right.

Ethan blossomed entirely. The bite at his neck was permanent proof of how Magnus felt about him. Now the alpha looked at Ethan with near reverence and Ethan could not seem to lose the wide-eyed expression of delighted shock. The huge hulking wolf was always gentle, always tender with Ethan, protecting him from anything Ethan might find even slightly disturbing as if it were his only goal in the world to shelter his mate. The loving devotion that Ethan could feel through their bond gave the beta an inner strength and confidence and his happiness brought the alpha joy. When they stood to declare their mating as well as Ethan’s pregnancy Magnus was so happy he couldn’t resist picking Ethan right up and kissing him thoroughly in front of everyone, his eyes shining and his smile as big as it could get. Ethan blushed nearly full time now.

Patrick and Sidney had also successfully bonded and were already in the middle of arranging their amicable divorce. The day after the full moon had them hugging and admitting that the love they had for one another was strongly affectionate but nothing like the loves they now shared with their alphas. Both of them were expecting. Alexander, the quietest of The Brothers, said nothing but he looked like he was floating around with bliss when he walked Sidney around. Cosantoir could barely keep himself away from Patrick and only the duties that he felt right in the soul of him ever kept him from his mate’s side. Conveniently for Cosantoir Sherlock was Patrick’s good friend and enjoyed having both of them for company. They discussed pregnancy while Cosantoir beamed proudly.

Mrs. Hudson and Ian simply glowed. Dominic could be seen escorting one or both of his mates along their day in between his times with Sherlock. The massive wolf was tender and courteous with both of them, his tremendous regard for his mates made clear in every understated inch of him. Dominic had no need to display his alpha superiority. He was matchless and impossible to interest. He only had eyes for his mates. Their mutual pregnancies were excitedly discussed and now John found his living room largely occupied with expectant wolves and children, all arranged around Sherlock like a gigantic gestating defense system. He found he rather enjoyed the sight of his mate so displayed and knowing Sherlock was so completely safe allowed John to tend to the huge issues that now faced them.

The entire nature of Baskerville shifted the instant the news of Edward got out. Families and packs drew tightly together; living arrangements were changed so no one lived entirely alone or unwatched. Cautions were taken in every conceivable way as the werewolves prepared themselves for whatever might be coming their way. The month that had passed had given them some time but when the full moon happened the world would go mad. Hundreds, possibly thousands of unsuspecting werewolves would be triggered, maybe even millions. The reactions afterward were impossible to calculate.

Food stores were laid in. The Hounds brought in enough supplies for every possible emergency to fill their vast warehouses to the brim. Each home was stocked as heavily as it could bear, just in case supplies became impossible to obtain. Mycroft and Greg even had a water purification system installed to take advantage to their access to an underground lake far beneath the stones of Baskerville. They spared no expense in making sure they were as provisioned as possible.

They discussed weaponry. Bringing in the amount of arms needed to defend a group as large as theirs would be difficult, even with connections like theirs. In the end they decided to leave it as it was, with weapons only in the hands of those who knew what they were doing and could be called upon to do a bit of soldiering if necessary.

Anthea arrived one day. Sherlock, John, Greg and Mycroft met with her in their conference room. “Years ago you made me a promise. I’d like to be changed. I brought the other three.”

Mycroft stood in front of his old assistant and placed his hand on her shoulder, “Whenever you’re ready Anthea. Who have you chosen?”

Anthea smiled up to her old mentor, “Remember when I told you that there was someone but that time was always a problem? Well you were right and when I spoke to them they said they were willing to work it out and we have. They’re outside.” The door opened and in walked Molly Hooper. John was so surprised. They hadn’t seen or heard from Molly in years. She had matured beautifully in the years that had passed, that nervous twitchiness long since replaced with a new sort of confidence that gave her a grace she had not possessed before. The other two people surprised John even more.

“Mike! Bill!” John went to shake Mike Stamford’s hand. He also shook Bill Murray’s hand vigorously. Mike had introduced John to Sherlock and Bill had served with John during his days in the army, “Bill how you even know Anthea I’ll never guess. Molly! I didn’t know you were dating Anthea! Mike! Well….I just don’t know what to say!” John hadn’t been this happily surprised in a long time. He’d always liked Molly and regretted it when the time came for him and Sherlock to stop allowing themselves to be seen by people who really knew them. He’d missed his old friends and here they were the best of them.  
“Hello John. Hi Sherlock. Wow. You two look exactly the same. It’s kind of weird isn’t it? I mean, I must look like an old lady compared to the last time I saw you.” Molly sounded exactly the same. John hugged her tight and even Sherlock got up and stunned her with a warm and sincere embrace.

“Molly. It’s so wonderful to see you. Mrs. Hudson will be thrilled. She’s here as well.” Molly’s mouth dropped open in surprise when Sherlock spoke, just like it used to. John grinned. 

“Sherlock. Your voice. It’s different.” John looked at Sherlock who merely shrugged elegantly. John realized he’d become accustomed to all the little differences in his omega, the physical changes that made him more androgynous than ever and even the modulation of his voice, while though still very deep, had layers in it now that hinted at the female parts of him. Molly, once such a hopeful admired of Sherlock’s was the first to point it out.

“I am very different Molly Hooper. Have I got a surprise for you! Six of them!” Sherlock hugged Molly again and stepped back to put his arm around John possessively. John grinned again and turned to Mike and Bill. “Mike Stamford. The years look good on you. Welcome to Baskerville.”

Sherlock shook Mike’s hand firmly and now John turned to Bill who grinned cheekily, “I met Anthea at your wedding. She’s a pistol and my best friend. She said she had a great big surprise for me and when she told me what it was I didn’t believe her. She said she’d bring me to someone who would convince me with a look and damn it she was right! Jesus John! You look EXACTLY the same!”

John turned to Anthea and asked, “Anthea, what do they know?” The hidden ruler of England shrugged her elegant shoulders. 

“Molly and Bill know ‘what’. Mike knows nothing.” Anthea went over to Molly and put her arms around the smaller woman, “Are you sure you’re alright with this? You know I won’t be upset if you aren’t.”

“I’m sure love. I want this with you. Together, right?” Anthea looked tenderly down at Molly and kissed her between her eyebrows. “Go ahead, explain it to Mike.”

“Mike you are one of John Watson’s oldest friends and I knew he’d want this. Before John and Sherlock got married they were bitten and infected by a species of animal that was on the brink of extinction. The reaction to this bite is perfect health, increased physical and mental acuity and long life. There are a few other perks but what it boils down to is that John and Sherlock are werewolves. They’ve promised to turn three people as well as myself and I have chosen you along with Bill and Molly.”

Mike was stunned. He looked at John who nodded and said, “Try not to freak out. Three…two….one.” John and Sherlock shifted and stood as wolves in front of John’s old friend. Mike stared in shocked silence for several minutes before his fist shot in the air and he shouted, “YES!” John and Sherlock shifted back and Mike was clapping his hands with excitement. “When I was a kid I wanted to be a werewolf more than ANYTHING. Oh my god it’s going to happen for real. Oh fucking wow, if I were a kid again I’d be pissing myself!”

Molly and Bill laughed together; clearly comfortable with one another. Well, if Molly was dating Anthea and Bill was Anthea’s best friend of course Molly would be familiar with him. John approved. This was the best bargain he’d ever made. Sherlock’s smile dropped away.

The omega looked at the women and said in a broken voice, “I can’t. I’m sorry Anthea. I’m not able to, not for some time.” John’s face grew grim and angry. Sherlock was upset now and John cursed his own thoughtlessness. The venom sac in Sherlock’s mouth had been excised and was still growing back. Who knew how long it would take before Sherlock could properly produce venom again?

John took Sherlock into his arms and held him tight. Sherlock trembled for a minute and John whispered apologies into his ear until Sherlock settled. Sherlock kissed his alpha tenderly, “We can ask one of The Brother’s if they’ll do it. Maybe one will say yes for us.” Sherlock nodded and John knew his omega was feeling like a failure because he couldn’t keep this promise. “Stop. It’s not your fault. You didn’t choose this my love, none of us did. We can still keep our promise.”

“Thank you John.” Sherlock’s head was still low so John lifted his omega’s chin to kiss him tenderly. Sherlock smiled crookedly at last, “I’ll ask Dominic. I’m sure he’ll say yes.” John nodded and Sherlock’ peeked through the door. Sure enough Dominic, Finnier and Alexander were there. Sherlock made his request and Dominic instantly came in. Anthea and Molly stared up at the large man but Dominic gave them both his courtliest bow.

Bill and Mike stared. “There’s more? How many werewolves are there?” John laughed at Mike’s question.

“How many people did you pass on your way to this room?” asked the doctor and Mike thought about it.

“I don’t know a few dozen I guess. Do they know? Do you tell people or is it a secret. It must be a secret because I’ve never heard of it. Wait…wait wait wait. You don’t mean….no….really? All those people? WOW this is INCREDIBLE!” Mike was clearly having the best day of his life. Bill was laughing next to Molly and poking Anthea annoying between the shoulder blades big-brother style and she was kicking him gently in the ankles to get him to stop.

“Which shall I change for you, most beautiful Khan?” asked Dominic respectfully. His devotion to Sherlock was deeper than ever. He and his brothers had only grown more and more determined to protect and adore Sherlock.

“Anthea. She was the one who received the promise. John, you can change Molly. Greg and Mycroft, you can sort out Bill and Mike.” Everyone nodded.

Bill looked nervous. “Does it take long? Will it hurt?”

Dominic barely moved but suddenly Anthea was bent back in his arms, his teeth at her throat before she could even flinch. His bite was hard and sure but Anthea didn’t cry out. The huge alpha looked proudly down at her. “Welcome home my child.” Anthea was now Dominic’s pup.

Molly’s mouth was still hanging open when John took her. Bill and Mike barely had time to do more than blink before Greg and Mycroft were biting at their throats, their venom coursing easily into the bodies of their new pups. All four reeled back, hands clapped to their bloodied necks in shock. Sherlock stood tall, “The change begins immediately. When the full moon rises you will be compelled to shift. You won’t feel panic but it will be odd. Have no concerns for you are surrounded by people who only want to welcome you to Baskerville. Congratulations on becoming part of The Hounds.”

Anthea moved in. Like Mycroft she eased her way out of her demanding job to pass it along to her long time PA who, like herself, had been groomed from the first day to replace the amazingly efficient woman. The last week before the full moon saw a flurry of activity overwhelm the wolf community as anxieties rose.

World news had never been happier. As disease and injury lost their grip on humanity a strange sort of peace began to spread. It had been not quite a month since the processed venom had drifted away and its impact after the full moon worried everyone. John tried to feel good about the healing around the world, grateful for this small mercy that could be relished before people found out exactly why they were getting better.

At last the full moon arrived. Everyone locked themselves away to enjoy what might be the last few hours of peace they’d ever enjoy. Sherlock and John lost themselves in feverish lovemaking as their children slept. Their newest wolves were paired with old beta couples to help them through their awkward first night as wolves. On the morning of the third day John and Sherlock opened the links to the news channels.

Joy reigned. People all over the world were in raptures over the shifts that occurred. Only a few thousand had actually turned into werewolves, the descendents of wolves who had been born and left to grow. The amazing miracle that had made the entire planet sing with joy were the presentations! Every single human being who was sexually mature presented a secondary gender. Now there were alphas, omegas and betas everywhere. True werewolves were still extremely rare. The change had brought a kind of euphoria to each individual.

If someone was loved they found that love had grown deeper, stronger. If hate existed it found little ground to grow on and began to die slowly, leaving tentative friendships or at least reconciliations behind. That first glorious day when the entire planet woke up and found itself changed for the better was marked as the first day of a new era. Families were brought closer together. Those that had shifted into wolves found themselves in loving arms while being regarded with wonder. Those who were alone left their homes and went to the streets to befriend all they met, talking to strangers as if they’d known one another forever. Those with no homes to leave were taken in by others with space to spare. Those who had been unloved found fellowship with everyone around them and were content.

Far away in a hidden underground facility someone was not satisfied with the changes that happened even there. Every soul at this dark place had woken on the third day, irrevocably altered. One person in particular was screaming with rage at the reactions. This was not the plan. People were not supposed to be HAPPY! This was supposed to be a massacre. Humanity was supposed to collectively rise up and crush the aberrations into extinction it way they were supposed to.

Still. There was always the plan. Somewhere deep underground the facility hid secrets even from the secret keepers. Deep in a room hidden from all but a few a large tank had something growing inside. The person stood over it and snarled. The first part of the plan was a complete failure but there was always another plan and if it failed then there would be another and another until the goal was met. There was always tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this section of 221 B Barker Street. The story has grown all the way and it's time to being a new one. Follow along in my new story "The Dawn of the Wolf" coming soon from a coffee crazed writer near you.
> 
> For everyone who has followed along offering me suggestions, adding to the life that has grown through these words do I give thanks. You have fed the machine and I am grateful.
> 
> As of March 6th this fic passed 7000 hits! I am amazed and thankful for all the readers who had taken the time to enjoy my work!
> 
> As always, continued commentary is encouraged.


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